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"  Don't   move  ;  it  may  come  again  " 


/-I      CATHEDRAL 

J--*-   COURTSHIP 

AND  PENELOPE'S   ENG 
LISH    EXPERIENCES 

BY 

KATE   DOUGLAS    WIGGIN 


WITH  FIVE  ILLUSTRA  TIONS 
B  Y    CLIFFORD      CA  RLE  TON 


BOSTON    AND    NEW    YORK 
HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN    COMPANY 
prep?  Cambribge 


Copyright,  i8gj, 
BY  KATE   DOUGLAS  WIGGIN 

All  rights  reserved. 


TO    MY   BOSTON    FRIEND 

SALEMINA 

NO  A  NGL  OMA  NIA  C,  BUT 
A    TRUE  BRITON 


CONTENTS 

PAG« 

A   CATHEDRAL  COURTSHIP i 

PENELOPE'S   ENGLISH   EXPERIENCES. 

PART  FIRST:  IN  TOWN 51 

PART  SECOND:  IN  THE  COUNTRY      ....  103 


397221 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

"  Don't  move ;  it  may  come  again  "  .    Frontispiece 
"  We  scrambled  up  the  articles  together"  .    .    .    .     10 
"  Unapproachable  haughtiness  of  demeanor "      .    .     58 
"  Helpless  to  attract  any  but  the  children  "    ,    .    .    76 
"I  loved  her  at  first  sight" 118 


A   CATHEDRAL   COURTSHIP 


SHE 


WINCHESTER,  May  28,  1891. 
The  Royal  Garden  Inn. 

|E  are  doing  the  English  cathedral 
towns,  aunt  Celia  and   I.     Aunt 
L  Celia  has  an  intense  desire  to  im 

prove  my  mind.  Papa  told  her,  when  we 
were  leaving  Cedarhurst,  that  he  would  n't 
for  the  world  have  it  too  much  improved, 
and  aunt  Celia  remarked  that,  so  far  as 
she  could  judge,  there  was  no  immediate 
danger;  with  which  exchange  of  hostilities 
they  parted. 

We  are  traveling  under  the  yoke  of  an 
iron  itinerary,  warranted  neither  to  bend 
nor  break.  It  was  made  out  by  a  young 
High  Church  curate  in  New  York,  and  if 
it  had  been  blessed  by  all  the  bishops  and 


A   Cathedral  Courtship 


popes  it  could  not  be  more  sacred  to  aunt 
Celia.  She  is  awfully  High  Church,  and 
I  believe  she  thinks  this  tour  of  the  cathe 
drals  will  give  me  a  taste  for  ritual  and 
bring  me  into  the  true  fold.  I  have  been 
heaving  dear  old  Dr.  Kyle  a  great  deal 
lately,  and  aunt  Celia  says  that  he  is  the 
most  d^ngarous  Unitarian  she  knows, 
because  he  has  leanings  towards  Chris 
tianity. 

Long  ago,  in  her  youth,  she  was  en 
gaged  to  a  young  architect.  He,  with  his 
triangles  and  T-squares  and  things,  suc 
ceeded  in  making  an  imaginary  scale-draw 
ing  of  her  heart  (up  to  that  time  a  virgin 
forest,  an  unmapped  territory),  which  en 
abled  him  to  enter  in  and  set  up  a  pedes 
tal  there,  on  which  he  has  remained  ever 
since.  He  has  been  only  a  memory  for 
many  years,  to  be  sure,  for  he  died  at  the 
age  of  twenty-six,  before  he  had  had  time 
to  build  anything  but  a  livery  stable  and 
a  country  hotel.  This  is  fortunate,  on  the 
whole,  because  aunt  Celia  thinks  he  was 
destined  to  establish  American  architec 
ture  on  a  higher  plane,  —  rid  it  of  its  base, 
time-serving,  imitative  instincts,  and  waft 


A   Cathedral  Courtship 


it  to  a  height  where,  in  the  course  of  cen 
turies,  we  should  have  been  revered  and 
followed  by  all  the  nations  of  the  earth. 
I  went  to  see  the  livery  stable,  after  one 
of  these  Miriam-like  flights  of  prophecy  on 
the  might-have-been.  It  is  n't  fair  to  judge 
a  man's  promise  by  one  performance,  and 
that  one  a  livery  stable,  so  I  shall  say 
nothing. 

This  sentiment  about  architecture  and 
this  fondness  for  the  very  toppingest  High 
Church  ritual  cause  aunt  Celia  to  look 
on  the  English  cathedrals  with  solemnity 
and  reverential  awe.  She  has  given  me 
a  fat  notebook,  with  "  Katharine  Schuy- 
ler"  stamped  in  gold  letters  on  the  Rus 
sia  leather  cover,  and  a  lock  and  key  to 
protect  its  feminine  confidences.  I  am 
not  at  all  the  sort  of  girl  who  makes  notes, 
and  I  have  told  her  so ;  but  she  says  that 
I  must  at  least  record  my  passing  impres 
sions,  if  they  are  ever  so  trivial  and  com 
monplace. 

I  wanted  to  go  directly  from  Southamp 
ton  to  London  with  the  Abbotts,  our  ship 
friends,  who  left  us  yesterday.  Roderick 
Abbott  and  I  had  had  a  charming  time  on 


A  Cathedral  Courtship 


board  ship  (more  charming  than  aunt 
Celia  knows,  because  she  was  very  ill,  and 
her  natural  powers  of  chaperoning  were 
severely  impaired),  and  the  prospect  of 
seeing  London  sights  together  was  not  un- 
pleasing  ;  but  Roderick  Abbott  is  not  in 
aunt  Celia's  itinerary,  which  reads  :  "  Win 
chester,  Salisbury,  Wells,  Bath,  Bristol, 
Gloucester,  Oxford,  London,  Ely,  Lincoln, 
York,  Durham." 

Aunt  Celia  is  one  of  those  persons  who 
are  born  to  command,  and  when  they  are 
thrown  in  contact  with  those  who  are  born 
to  be  commanded  all  goes  as  merry  as  a 
marriage  bell ;  otherwise  not. 

So  here  we  are  at  Winchester ;  and  I 
don't  mind  all  the  Roderick  Abbotts  in  the 
universe,  now  that  1  have  seen  the  Royal 
Garden  Inn,  its  pretty  coffee-room  opening 
into  the  old-fashioned  garden,  with  its 
borders  of  clove  pinks,  its  aviaries,  and  its 
blossoming  horse-chestnuts,  great  tower 
ing  masses  of  pink  bloom  ! 

Aunt  Celia  has  driven  to  St.  Cross 
Hospital  with  Mrs.  Benedict,  an  estimable 
lady  tourist  whom  she  "picked  up"  en 
route  from  Southampton.  I  am  tired,  and 


A   Cathedral  Courtship 


stayed  at  home.     I  cannot  write  letters, 
because  aunt  Celia  has  the  guide-books, 
so  I  sit  by  the  window  in  indolent  content, 
watching  the  dear  little  school  laddies,  with 
their  short  jackets  and  wide  white  collars  ; 
they  all  look  so  jolly,  and  rosy,  and  clean, 
and  kissable  !     I  should  like  to  kiss  the 
chambermaid,  too  !     She  has  a  pink  print 
dress ;    no   bangs,   thank   goodness    (it 's 
curious  our  servants  can't  leave  that  de 
formity  to  the  upper  classes),  but  shining 
brown  hair,  plump  figure,  soft  voice,  and 
a   most   engaging  way  of    saying,    "Yes, 
miss?     Anythink   more,  miss?"     I    long 
to  ask  her  to  sit  down  comfortably  and  be 
English,  while  I  study  her  as  a  type,  but 
of  course  I  must  n't.     Sometimes   I  wish 
I  could  retire  from  the  world  for  a  season 
and  do  what  I  like,   "  surrounded  by  the 
general  comfort  of  being  thought  mad." 

An  elegant,  irreproachable,  high-minded 
model  of  dignity  and  reserve  has  just 
knocked  and  inquired  what  we  will  have 
for  dinner.  It  is  very  embarrassing  to  give 
orders  to  a  person  who  looks  like  a  judge 
of  the  Supreme  Court,  but  I  said  languidly, 
"  What  would  you  suggest  ?  " 


A   Cathedral  Courtship 


"  How  would  you  like  a  clear  soup,  a 
good  spring  soup,  to  begin  with,  miss  ?  " 

"  Very  much." 

"  And  a  bit  of  turbot  next,  miss  ?  " 

"  Yes,  turbot,  by  all  means,"  I  said,  my 
mouth  watering  at  the  word. 

"  And  what  for  a  roast,  miss  ?  Would 
you  enjoy  a  young  duckling,  miss  ?  " 

"  Just  the  thing ;  and  for  dessert  "  —  I 
could  n't  think  what  we  ought  to  have  for 
dessert  in  England,  but  the  high-minded 
model  coughed  apologetically  and  said,  "  I 
was  thinking  you  might  like  gooseberry 
tart  and  cream  for  a  sweet,  miss." 

Oh  that  I  could  have  vented  my  New 
World  enthusiasm  in  a  shriek  of  delight 
as  I  heard  those  intoxicating  words,  here 
tofore  met  only  in  English  novels  ! 

"Ye-es,"  I  said  hesitatingly,  though  I 
was  palpitating  with  joy,  "  I  fancy  we 
should  like  gooseberry  tart "  (here  a 
bright  idea  entered  my  mind) ;  "  and  per 
haps  in  case  my  aunt  does  n't  care  for  the 
gooseberry  tart,  you  might  bring  a  lemon 
squash,  please." 

Now  I  had  never  met  a  lemon  squash 
personally,  but  I  had  often  heard  of  it,  and 


A  Cathedral  Courtship 


wished  to  show  my  familiarity  with  British 
culinary  art. 

"  One  lemon  squash,  miss  ?  " 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  it  does  n't  matter,"  I 
said  haughtily ;  "  bring  a  sufficient  num 
ber  for  two  persons." 

Aunt  Celia  came  home  in  the  highest 
feather.  She  had  twice  been  taken  for  an 
Englishwoman.  She  said  she  thought  that 
lemon  squash  was  a  drink ;  I  thought  it 
was  a  pie  ;  but  we  shall  find  out  at  dinner, 
for,  as  I  said,  I  ordered  a  sufficient  num 
ber  for  two  persons. 

At  four  o'clock  we  attended  even-song 
at  the  cathedral.  I  shall  not  say  what  I 
felt  when  the  white-surpliced  boy  choir 
entered,  winding  down  those  vaulted  aisles, 
or  when  I  heard  for  the  first  time  that  in 
toned  service,  with  all  its  "  witchcraft  of 
harmonic  sound."  I  sat  quite  by  myself 
in  a  high  carved-oak  seat,  and  the  hour 
was  passed  in  a  trance  of  serene  delight. 
I  do  not  have  many  opinions,  it  is  true,  but 
papa  says  I  am  always  strong  on  senti 
ments  ;  nevertheless,  I  shall  not  attempt  to 
tell  even  what  I  feel  in  these  new  and 


8  A  Cathedral  Courtship 

beautiful  experiences,  for  it  has  been  bet 
ter  told  a  thousand  times. 

There  were  a  great  many  people  at  ser 
vice,  and  a  large  number  of  Americans 
among  them,  I  should  think,  though  we 
saw  no  familiar  faces.  There  was  one 
particularly  nice  young  man,  who  looked 
like  a  Bostonian.  He  sat  opposite  me. 
He  did  n't  stare,  —  he  was  too  well  bred  ; 
but  when  I  looked  the  other  way,  he  looked 
at  me.  Of  course  I  could  feel  his  eyes,  — 
anybody  can,  at  least  any  girl  can  \  but  I 
attended  to  every  word  of  the  service,  and 
was  as  good  as  an  angel.  When  the  pro 
cession  had  filed  out  and  the  last  strain  of 
the  great  organ  had  rumbled  into  silence, 
we  went  on  a  tour  through  the  cathedral, 
a  heterogeneous  band,  headed  by  a  consci 
entious  old  verger  who  did  his  best  to 
enlighten  us,  and  succeeded  in  virtually 
spoiling  my  pleasure. 

After  we  had  finished  (think  of  "  finish 
ing  "  a  cathedral  in  an  hour  or  two  !),  aunt 
Celia  and  I,  with  one  or  two  others,  wan 
dered  through  the  beautiful  close,  looking 
at  the  exterior  from  every  possible  point, 
and  coming  at  last  to  a  certain  ruined  arch 


A   Cathedral  CourtsJiip 


which  is  very  famous.  It  did  not  strike 
me  as  being  remarkable.  I  could  make 
any  number  of  them  with  a  pattern,  with 
out  the  least  effort.  But  at  any  rate, 
when  told  by  the  verger  to  gaze  upon  the 
beauties  of  this  wonderful  relic  and  tremble, 
we  were  obliged  to  gaze  also  upon  the 
beauties  of  the  aforesaid  nice  young  man, 
who  was  sketching  it.  As  we  turned  to 
go  away,  aunt  Celia  dropped  her  bag.  It 
is  one  of  those  detestable,  all-absorbing, 
all-devouring,  thoroughly  respectable,  but 
never  proud  Boston  bags,  made  of  black 
cloth  with  leather  trimmings,  "  C.  Van  T." 
embroidered  on  the  side,  and  the  top 
drawn  up  with  stout  cords  which  pass  over 
.the  Boston  wrist  or  arm.  As  for  me,  I 
loathe  them,  and  would  not  for  worlds  be 
seen  carrying  one,  though  I  do  slip  a  great 
many  necessaries  into  aunt  Celia's. 

I  hastened  to  pick  up  the  horrid  thing, 
for  fear  the  nice  young  man  would  feel 
obliged  to  do  it  for  me ;  but,  in  my  inde 
corous  haste,  I  caught  hold  of  the  wrong 
end  and  emptied  the  entire  contents  on 
the  stone  flagging.  Aunt  Celia  didn't 
notice;  she  had  turned  with  the  verger, 


IO          A   CatJicdral  Court sJiip 

lest  she  should  miss  a  single  word  of  his 
inspired  testimony.  So  we  scrambled  up 
the  articles  together,  the  nice  young  man 
and  I ;  and  oh,  I  hope  I  may  never  look 
upon  his  face  again  ! 

There  were  prayer-books  and  guide 
books,  a  bottle  of  soda  mint  tablets,  a 
spool  of  dental  floss,  a  Bath  bun,  a  bit  of 
gray  frizz  that  aunt  Celia  pins  into  her 
steamer  cap,  a  spectacle  case,  a  brandy 
flask,  and  a  bonbon  box,  which  broke  and 
scattered  cloves  and  cardamom  seeds. 
(I  hope  he  guessed  aunt  Celia  is  a  dys 
peptic,  and  not  intemperate !)  All  this 
was  hopelessly  vulgar,  but  I  would  n't 
have  minded  anything  if  there  had  not 
been  a  Duchess  novel.  Of  course  he 
thought  that  it  belonged  to  me.  He 
could  n't  have  known  aunt  Celia  was 
carrying  it  for  that  accidental  Mrs.  Bene 
dict,  with  whom  she  went  to  St.  Cross 
Hospital. 

After  scooping  the  cardamom  seeds  out 
of  the  cracks  in  the  stone  flagging,  he 
handed  me  the  tattered,  disreputable-look 
ing  copy  of  "  A  Modern  Circe  "  with  a  bo\T 
that  would  n't  have  disgraced  a  Chester- 


We  scrambled   up  the  articles  together 


A  Cathedral  Courtship  u 

field,  and  then  went  back  to  his  easel, 
while  I  fled  after  aunt  Celia  and  her 
verger. 

Memoranda  :  The  Winchester  Cathedral 
has  the  longest  nave.  The  inside  is  more 
superb  than  the  outside.  Izaak  Walton  and 
Jane  Austen  are  buried  there. 

HE 

WINCHESTER,  May  28,  1891. 
The  White  Swan. 

As  sure  as  my  name  is  Jack  Copley,  I 
saw  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  world  to-day, 
—  an  American,  too,  or  I  'm  greatly  mis 
taken.  It  was  in  the  cathedral,  where  I 
have  been  sketching  for  several  days.  I 
was  sitting  in  the  end  of  a  seat,  at  after 
noon  service,  when  two  ladies  entered  by 
the  side  door.  The  ancient  maiden,  evi 
dently  the  head  of  the  family,  settled  her 
self  devoutly,  and  the  young  one  stole  off 
by  herself  to  one  of  the  old  carved  seats 
back  of  the  choir.  She  was  worse  than 
pretty !  I  took  a  sketch  of  her  during 
service,  as  she  sat  under  the  dark  carved' 


12          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

oak  canopy,   with    this   Latin   inscription 
orer  her  head  :  — 

CARLTON  CUM 

DOLBY 

LETANIA 

IX  SOLIDORUM 

SUPER  FLUMINA 

CONFITEBOR  TIBI 

DUG  PROBATI 

There  ought  to  be  a  law  against  a 
woman's  making  a  picture  of  herself,  un 
less  she  is  willing  to  sit  and  be  sketched. 

A  black  and  white  sketch  does  n't  give 
any  definite  idea  of  this  charmer's  charms, 
but  some  time  I  '11  fill  it  in,  —  hair,  sweet 
little  hat,  gown,  and  eyes,  all  in  golden 
brown,  a  cape  of  tawny  sable  slipping  off 
her  arm,  a  knot  of  yellow  primroses  in 
her  girdle,  carved-oak  background,  and 
the  afternoon  sun  coming  through  a 
stained-glass  window.  Great  Jove !  She 
had  a  most  curious  effect  on  me,  that  girl ! 
I  can't  explain  it,  —  very  curious,  alto 
gether  new,  and  rather  pleasant !  When 
one  of  the  choir  boys  sang,  "  Oh  for  the 
wings  of  a  dove  !  "  a  tear  rolled  out  of  one 
of  her  lovely  eyes  and  down  her  smooth 


A   Cathedral  Courtship  13 

brown  cheek.  I  would  have  given  a  large 
portion  of  my  modest  monthly  income  for 
the  felicity  of  wiping  away  that  teardrop 
with  one  of  my  new  handkerchiefs,  marked 
with  a  tremendous  "  C "  by  my  pretty 
sister. 

An  hour  or  two  later  they  appeared 
again,  —  the  dragon,  who  answers  to  the 
name  of  "aunt  Celia,"  and  the  "nut- 
brown  mayde,"  who  comes  when  you  call 
her  "  Katharine."  I  was  sketching  a 
ruined  arch.  The  dragon  dropped  her 
unmistakably  Boston  bag.  I  expected  to 
see  encyclopaedias  and  Russian  tracts  fall 
from  it,  but  was  disappointed.  The  nut- 
brown  mayde  (who  has  been  brought  up 
rigidly)  hastened  to  pick  up  the  bag,  for 
fear  that  I  should  serve  her  by  doing  it. 
She  was  punished  by  turning  it  inside  out, 
and  I  was  rewarded  by  helping  her  pick 
up  the  articles,  which  were  many  and  ill 
assorted.  My  little  romance  received  the 
first  blow  when  I  found  that  she  reads  the 
Duchess  novels.  I  think,  however,  she 
has  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  of  it,  for  she 
blushed  scarlet  when  I  handed  her  "A 
Modern  Circe."  I  could  have  told  her  that 


14          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

such  a  blush  on  such  a  cheek  would  atone 
for  reading  Mrs.  Southworth,  but  I  re 
frained.  After  she  had  gone  I  discovered 
a  slip  of  paper  which  had  blown  under 
some  stones.  It  proved  to  be  an  itinerary. 
I  did  n't  return  it.  I  thought  they  must 
know  which  way  they  were  going  ;  and  as 
this  was  precisely  what  I  wanted  to  know, 
I  kept  it  for  my  own  use.  She  is  doing 
the  cathedral  towns.  I  am  doing  the 
cathedral  towns.  Happy  thought !  Why 
should  n't  we  do  them  together, — we  and 
aunt  Celia  ? 

I  had  only  ten  minutes  to  catch  my 
train  for  Salisbury,  but  I  concluded  to 
run  in  and  glance  at  the  registers  of  the 
principal  hotels.  Found  my  nut-brown 
mayde  at  once  on  the  pages  of  the  Royal 
Garden  Inn  register:  "Miss  Celia  Van 
Tyck,  Beverly,  Mass.  ;  Miss  Katharine 
Schuyler,  New  York."  I  concluded  to 
stay  over  another  train,  ordered  dinner, 
and  took  an  altogether  indefensible  and 
inconsistent  pleasure  in  writing  "John 
Quincy  Copley,  Cambridge,  Mass.,"  di« 
rectly  beneath  the  charmer's  autograph. 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          15 


SHE 

SALISBURY,  June  i. 
The  White  Hart  Inn. 

We  left  Winchester  on  the  1.06  train 
yesterday,  and  here  we  are  within  sight  of 
another  superb  and  ancient  pile  of  stone. 
I  wanted  so  much  to  stop  at  the  Highflyer 
Inn  in  Lark  Lane,  but  aunt  Celia  said 
that  if  we  were  destitute  of  personal  dig 
nity,  we  at  least  owed  something  to  our 
ancestors.  Aunt  Celia  has  a  tempera 
mental  distrust  of  joy  as  something  dan 
gerous  and  ensnaring.  She  does  n't  real 
ize  what  fun  it  would  be  to  date  one's 
letters  from  the  Highflyer  Inn,  Lark  Lane, 
even  if  one  were  obliged  to  consort  with 
poachers  and  cockneys  in  order  to  do  it. 

We  attended  service  at  three.  The 
music  was  lovely,  and  there  were  beauti 
ful  stained-glass  windows  by  Burne-Jones 
and  Morris.  The  verger  (when  wound  up 
with  a  shilling)  talked  like  an  electric  doll. 
If  that  nice  young  man  is  making  a  ca 
thedral  tour,  like  ourselves,  he  is  n't  tak 
ing  our  route,  for  he  is  n't  here.  If  he  has 
come  over  for  the  purpose  of  sketching, 


1 6          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

he  would  n't  stop  at  sketching  one  cathe 
dral.  Perhaps  he  began  at  the  other  end 
and  worked  down  to  Winchester.  Yes, 
that  must  be  it,  for  the  Ems  sailed  yester 
day  from  Southampton. 

June  2. 

We  intended  to  go  to  Stonehenge  this 
morning,  but  it  rained,  so  we  took  a 
"  growler  "  and  went  to  the  Earl  of  Pem 
broke's  country  place  to  see  the  pictures. 
Had  a  delightful  morning  with  the  magni 
ficent  antiques,  curios,  and  portraits.  The 
Van  Dyck  room  is  a  joy  forever.  There 
were  other  visitors ;  nobody  who  looked 
especially  interesting.  Don't  like  Salis 
bury  so  well  as  Winchester.  Don't  know 
why.  We  shall  drive  this  afternoon,  if  it 
is  fair,  and  go  to  Wells  to-morrow.  Must 
read  Baedeker  on  the  bishop's  palace. 
Oh  dear !  if  one  could  only  have  a  good 
time  and  not  try  to  know  anything ! 

Memoranda:  This  cathedral  has  the 
highest  spire.  Remember:  Winchester, 
longest  nave ;  Salisbury,  highest  spire. 

The  Lancet  style  is  those  curved  lines 
meeting  in  a  rounding  or  a  sharp  point  likt 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          17 

this  /r*\  /\  and  then  joined  together  like 
this  ^N^X^S^X^^X^  Me  way  they  used 
to  scallop  flannel  petticoats.  Gothic  looks 
like  triangles  meeting  together  in  various 
spots  and  joined  with  beautiful  sort  of  orna 
mented  knobs.  I  think  I  know  Gothic  when 
I  see  it.  Then  there  is  Norman,  Early 
English,  fully  developed  Early  English^ 
Early  and  Late  Perpendicular,  and  Transi 
tion.  Aunt  Celia  knows  them  all  apart. 


HE 


SALISBURY,  June  3. 
The  Red  Lion. 

I  went  off  on  a  long  tramp  this  after* 
noon,  and  coming  on  a  pretty  river  flow 
ing  through  green  meadows,  with  a  fringe 
of  trees  on  either  side,  I  sat  down  to 
make  a  sketch.  I  heard  feminine  voices 
in  the  vicinity,  but,  as  these  are  generally 
a  part  of  the  landscape  in  the  tourist  sea 
son,  I  paid  no  special  notice.  Suddenly 
a  dainty  patent-leather  shoe  floated  to' 
wards  me  on  the  surface  of  the  stream- 
It  evidently  had  just  dropped  in,  for  it 
was  right  side  up  with  care,  and  was  dis* 


1 8          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

porting  itself  right  merrily.  "  Did  ever 
Jove's  tree  drop  such  fruit?"  I  quoted, 
as  I  fished  it  out  on  my  stick ;  and  just 
then  I  heard  a  distressed  voice  saying, 
"  Oh,  aunt  Celia,  I  Ve  lost  my  smart  little 
London  shoe.  I  was  sitting  in  a  tree, 
taking  a  pebble  out  of  the  heel,  when  I 
saw  a  caterpillar,  and  I  dropped  it  into 
the  river,  the  shoe,  you  know,  not  the  cater 
pillar."  Hereupon  she  came  in  sight,  and 
I  witnessed  the  somewhat  unusual  spec 
tacle  of  my  nut-brown  mayde  hopping  on 
one  foot,  like  a  divine  stork,  and  ever  and 
anon  emitting  a  feminine  shriek  as  her 
off  foot,  clad  in  a  delicate  silk  stocking, 
came  in  contact  with  the  ground.  I  rose 
quickly,  and,  polishing  the  patent  leather 
ostentatiously,  inside  and  out,  with  my 
handkerchief,  I  offered  it  to  her  with 
distinguished  grace.  She  swayed  on  her 
one  foot  with  as  much  dignity  as  possible, 
and  then  recognizing  me  as  the  person 
who  picked  up  the  contents  of  aunt  Ce- 
lia's  bag,  she  said,  dimpling  in  the  most 
distracting  manner  (that  's  another  thing 
there  ought  to  be  a  law  against),  "  Thank 
you  again ;  you  seem  to  be  a  sort  of 
knight-errant !  " 


A  Cathedral  Courtship  19 

"Shall  I  — assist  you?"  I  asked.  (I 
might  have  known  that  this  was  going  too 
far.) 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  said,  with  polar 
frigidity.  "  Good-afternoon."  And  she 
hopped  back  to  her  aunt  Celia  without 
another  word. 

I  don't  know  how  to  approach  aunt 
Celia.  She  is  formidable.  By  a  curious 
accident  of  feature,  for  which  she  is  not 
in  the  least  sesponsible,  she  always  wears 
an  unfortunate  expression  as  of  one  per 
ceiving  some  offensive  odor  in  the  im 
mediate  vicinity.  This  may  be  a  mere 
accident  of  high  birth.  It  is  the  kind  of 
nose  often  seen  in  the  "first  families,"  and 
her  name  betrays  the  fact  that  she  is  of 
good  old  Knickerbocker  origin.  We  go  to 
Wells  to-morrow.  At  least  I  think  we  do. 

SHE 

GLOUCESTER,  June  9. 
The  Spread  Eagle. 

I  met  him  at  Wells,  and  again  at  Bath. 
We  are  always  being  ridiculous,  and  he 
is  always  rescuing  us.  Aunt  Celia  never 


2O          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

really  sees  him,  and  thus  never  recognizes 
him  when  he  appears  again,  always  as  the 
flower  of  chivalry  and  guardian  of  ladies 
in  distress.  I  will  never  again  travel 
abroad  without  a  man,  even  if  I  have  to 
hire  one  from  a  Feeble-Minded  Asylum. 
We  work  like  galley  slaves,  aunt  Celia  and 
I,  finding  out  about  trains  and  things. 
Neither  of  us  can  understand  Bradshaw, 
and  I  can't  even  grapple  with  the  lesser 
intricacies  of  the  ABC  rajlway  guide. 
The  trains,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  always 
arrive  before  they  go  out,  and  I  can  never 
tell  whether  to  read  up  the  page  or  down. 
It  is  certainly  very  queer  that  the  stupid 
est  man  that  breathes,  one  that  barely 
escapes  idiocy,  can  disentangle  a  railway 
guide,  when  the  brightest  woman  fails. 
Even  the  Boots  at  the  inn  in  Wells  took 
my  book,  and,  rubbing  his  frightfully  dirty 
finger  down  the  row  of  puzzling  figures, 
found  the  place  in  a  minute,  and  said, 
"  There  ye  are,  miss."  It  is  very  humili 
ating.  All  the  time  I  have  left  from  the 
study  of  routes  and  hotels  I  spend  on 
guide-books.  Now  I  'm  sure  that  if  any 
one  of  the  men  I  know  were  here,  he 


A   Cathedral  Courtship          21 

could  tell  me  all  that  is  necessary  as  we 
walk  along  the  streets.  I  don't  say  it  in 
a  frivolous  or  sentimental  spirit  in  the 
least,  but  I  do  affirm  that  there  is  hardly 
any  juncture  in  life  where  one  is  n't  better 
off  for  having  a  man  about.  I  should 
never  dare  divulge  this  to  aunt  Celia,  for 
she  does  n't  think  men  very  nice.  She 
excludes  them  from  conversation  as  if 
they  were  indelicate  subjects. 

But,  to  go  on,  we  were  standing  at  the 
door  of  Ye  Olde  Bell  and  Horns,  at  Bath, 
waiting  for  the  fly  which  we  had  ordered 
to  take  us  to  the  station,  when  who  should 
drive  up  in  a  four-wheeler  but  the  flower 
of  chivalry.  Aunt  Celia  was  saying  very 
audibly,  "  We  shall  certainly  miss  the  train 
if  the  man  does  n't  come  at  once." 

"  Pray  take  this  fly,"  said  the  flower  of 
chivalry.  "  I  am  not  leaving  till  the  next 
train." 

Aunt  Celia  got  in  without  a  murmur; 
I  sneaked  in  after  her.  I  don't  think  she 
looked  at  him,  though  she  did  vouchsafe 
the  remark  that  he  seemed  to  be  a  civil 
iort  of  person. 

At  Bristol,  I  was  walking  about  by  my« 


22          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

self,  and  I  espied  a  sign,  "  Martha  Hug- 
gins,  Licensed  Victualer."  It  was  a  nice, 
tidy  little  shop,  with  a  fire  on  the  hearth 
and  flowers  in  the  window,  and,  as  it  was 
raining  smartly,  I  thought  no  one  would 
catch  me  if  I  stepped  inside  to  chat  with 
Martha.  I  fancied  it  would  be  so  delight 
ful  and  Dickensy  to  talk  quietly  with  a 
licensed  victualer  by  the  name  of  Martha 
Huggins. 

Just  after  I  had  settled  myself,  the  flower 
of  chivalry  came  in  and  ordered  ale.  I 
was  disconcerted  at  being  found  in  a 
dramshop  alone,  for  I  thought,  after  the 
bag  episode,  he  might  fancy  us  a  family 
of  inebriates.  But  he  did  n't  evince  the 
slightest  astonishment;  he  merely  lifted 
his  hat,  and  walked  out  after  he  had  fin 
ished  his  ale.  He  certainly  has  the  love 
liest  manners  ! 

And  so  it  goes  on,  and  we  never  get  any 
further.  I  like  his  politeness  and  his  evi 
dent  feeling  that  I  can't  be  flirted  and 
talked  with  like  a  forward  boarding-school 
miss,  but  I  must  say  I  don't  think  much 
of  his  ingenuity.  Of  course  one  can't  have 
all  the  virtues,  but,  if  I  were  he,  I  would 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          23 

part  with  my  distinguished  air,  my  charm 
ing  ease,  in  fact  almost  anything,  if  I  could 
have  in  exchange  a  few  grains  of  common 
sense,  just  enough  to  guide  me  in  the 
practical  affairs  of  life. 

I  wonder  what  he  is?  He  might  be 
an  artist,  but  he  does  n't  seem  quite  like 
an  artist ;  or  a  dilettante,  but  he  does  n't 
seem  in  the  least  like  a  dilettante.  Or 
he  might  be  an  architect ;  I  think  that  is 
the  most  probable  guess  of  all.  Perhaps 
he  is  only  "going  to  be"  one  of  these 
things,  for  he  can't  be  more  than  twenty- 
five  or  twenty-six.  Still  he  looks  as  if  he 
were  something  already ;  that  is,  he  has  a 
kind  of  self-reliance  in  his  mien,  —  not 
self-assertion,  nor  self-esteem,  but  belief 
in  self,  as  if  he  were  able,  and  knew  that 
he  was  able,  to  conquer  circumstances. 


HE 


GLOUCESTER,  June  10. 
The  Bell. 

Nothing  accomplished  yet.     Her  aunt 
is  a  Van  Tyck,  and  a  stiff  one,  too.     I  am 


24          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

a  Copley,  and  that  delays  matters.  Much 
depends  upon  the  manner  of  approach. 
A  false  move  would  be  fatal.  We  have 
six  more  towns  (as  per  itinerary),  and  if 
their  thirst  for  cathedrals  is  n't  slaked 
when  these  are  finished  we  have  the  entire 
continent  to  do.  If  I  could  only  succeed 
in  making  an  impression  on  the  retina  of 
aunt  Celia's  eye  !  Though  I  have  been 
under  her  feet  for  ten  days,  she  never  yet 
has  observed  me.  This  absent-minded 
ness  of  hers  serves  me  ill  now,  but  it  may 
prove  a  blessing  later  on. 


SHE 

OXFORD,  June  12. 
The  Mitre. 

It  was  here  in  Oxford  that  a  grain  of 
common  sense  entered  the  brain  of  the 
flower  of  chivalry.  You  might  call  it  the 
dawn  of  reason.  We  had  spent  part  of 
the  morning  in  High  Street,  "  the  noblest 
old  street  in  England,"  as  our  dear  Haw 
thorne  calls  it.  As  Wordsworth  had  writ 
ten  a  sonnet  about  it,  aunt  Celia  was 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          25 

armed  for  the  fray,  —  a  volume  of  Words 
worth  in  one  hand,  and  one  of  Hawthorne 
in  the  other.  (I  wish  Baedeker  did  n't 
give  such  full  information  about  what  one 
ought  to  read  before  one  can  approach 
these  places  in  a  proper  spirit.)  When 
we  had  done  High  Street,  we  went  to 
Magdalen  College,  and  sat  down  on  a 
bench  in  Addison's  Walk,  where  aunt 
Celia  proceeded  to  store  my  mind  with 
the  principal  facts  of  Addison's  career, 
and  his  influence  on  the  literature  of  the 
something  or  other  century.  The  cram 
ming  process  over,  we  wandered  along, 
and  came  upon  "  him  "  sketching  a  shady 
corner  of  the  walk. 

Aunt  Celia  went  up  behind  him,  and, 
Van  Tyck  though  she  is,  she  could  not 
restrain  her  admiration  of  his  work.  I 
was  surprised  myself :  I  did  n't  suppose 
so  good  looking  a  youth  could  do  such 
good  work.  I  retired  to  a  safe  distance, 
and  they  chatted  together.  He  offered 
her  the  sketch;  she  refused  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  his  kindness.  He  said  he 
would  "dash  off"  another  that  evening, 
and  bring  it  to  our  hotel,  —  "  so  glad  to 


26          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

do  anything  for  a  fellow-countryman,"  etc. 
I  peeped  from  behind  a  tree  and  saw  him 
give  her  his  card.  It  was  an  awful  mo 
ment  ;  I  trembled,  but  she  read  it  with 
unmistakable  approval,  and  gave  him  her 
own  with  an  expression  that  meant,  "  Yours 
is  good,  but  beat  that  if  you  can  !  " 

She  called  to  me,  and  I  appeared.  Mr. 
John  Quincy  Copley,  Cambridge,  was 
presented  to  her  niece,  Miss  Katharine 
Schuyler,  New  York.  It  was  over,  and  a 
very  small  thing  to  take  so  long  aboutr 
too. 

He  is  an  architect,  and  of  course  has  a 
smooth  path  into  aunt  Celia's  affections. 
Theological  students,  ministers,  mission 
aries,  heroes,  and  martyrs  she  may  dis 
trust,  but  architects  never  ! 

"  He  is  an  architect,  my  dear  Katha 
rine,  and  he  is  a  Copley,"  she  told  me 
afterwards.  "  I  never  knew  a  Copley  who 
was  not  respectable,  and  many  of  them 
have  been  more." 

After  the  introduction  was  over,  aunt 
Celia  asked  him  guilelessly  if  he  had 
visited  any  other  of  the  English  cathedrals. 
Any  others,  indeed !  This  to  a  youth 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          27 

who  had  been  all  but  in  her  lap  for  a 
fortnight !  It  was  a  blow,  but  he  rallied 
bravely,  and,  with  an  amused  look  in  my 
direction,  replied  discreetly  that  he  had 
visited  most  of  them  at  one  time  or  an 
other.  I  refused  to  let  him  see  that  I 
had  ever  noticed  him  before  ;  that  is, 
particularly. 

Memoranda  :  "  The  very  stones  and  mor 
tar  of  this  historic  town  seem  impregnated 
with  the  spirit  of  restful  antiquity"  (Ex 
tract  from  one  of  aunt  Celia's  letters.) 
Among  the  great  men  who  have  studied  here 
are  the  Prince  of  Wales,  Duke  of  Welling 
ton,  Gladstone,  Sir  Robert  Peel,  Sir  Philip 
Sidney,  William  Penn,  John  Locke,  the  two 
Wesley s,  Ruskin,  Ben  Jonson,  and  Thomas 
Otway.  (Look  Otway  up.) 


HE 


OXFORD,  June  13. 
The  Angel. 

I  have  done  it,  and  if  I  had  n't  been  a 
fool  and  a  coward  I  might  have  done  it  a 
week  ago,  and  spared  myself  a  good  deal 


28  A   Cathedral  Courtship 

of  delicious  torment.  I  have  just  given 
two  hours  to  a  sketch  of  Addison's  Walk 
and  carried  it  to  aunt  Celia  at  the  Mitre. 
Object,  to  find  out  whether  they  make  a 
long  stay  in  London  (our  next  point),  and 
if  so  where.  It  seems  they  go  directly 
through.  I  said  in  the  course  of  conver 
sation,  "  So  Miss  Schuyler  is  willing  to 
forego  a  London  season  ?  Marvelous  self- 
denial  !  " 

"  My  niece  did  not  come  to  Europe  for 
a  London  season,"  replied  Miss  Van  Tyck. 
"  We  go  through  London  this  time  merely 
as  a  cathedral  town,  simply  because  it 
chances  to  be  where  it  is  geographically. 
We  shall  visit  St.  Paul's  and  Westminster 
Abbey,  and  then  go  directly  on,  that  our 
chain  of  impressions  may  have  absolute 
continuity  and  be  free  from  any  disturbing 
elements." 

Oh,  but  she  is  lovely,  is  aunt  Celia ! 


A   Cathedral  Courtship          29 


LINCOLN,  June  20. 
The  Black  Boy  Inn. 

I  am  stopping  at  a  beastly  little  hole, 
which  has  the  one  merit  of  being  opposite 
Miss  Schuyler's  lodgings.  My  sketch 
book  has  deteriorated  in  artistic  value 
during  the  last  two  weeks.  Many  of  its 
pages,  while  interesting  to  me  as  reminis 
cences,  will  hardly  do  for  family  or  studio 
exhibition.  If  I  should  label  them,  the 
result  would  be  something  like  this  :  — 

1.  Sketch  of  a  footstool  and  desk  where 
I  first  saw  Miss  Schuyler  kneeling. 

2.  Sketch  of  a  carved-oak  chair,  Miss 
Schuyler  sitting  in  it. 

3.  "Angel    Choir."      Heads   of    Miss 
Schuyler  introduced  into  the  carving. 

4.  Altar  screen.    Full  length  figure  of 
Miss  Schuyler  holding  lilies. 

5.  Tomb  of  a  bishop,  where  I  tied  Miss 
Schuyler's  shoe. 

6.  Tomb  of  another  bishop,  where   I 
had   to  tie  it  again   because  I  did  it  so 
badly  the  first  time. 

7.  Sketch  of  the   shoe ;  the  shoe-lace 
worn  out  with  much  tying. 


30          A   Cathedral  Courtship 


8.  Sketch   of   the   blessed  verger  who 
called  her  "  madam,"  when  we  were  walk 
ing  together. 

9.  Sketch  of  her  blush  when  he  did  it ; 
the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world. 

10.  Sketch  of  J.  Q.  Copley  contemplat 
ing  the  ruins  of  his  heart. 

"  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  ! " 


SHE 

LINCOLN,  June  22. 
At  Miss  Brown's,  Castle  Garden. 

Mr.  Copley  has  done  something  in  the 
world  ;  I  was  sure  that  he  had.  He  has 
a  little  income  of  his  own,  but  he  is  too 
proud  and  ambitious  to  be  an  idler.  He 
looked  so  manly  when  he  talked  about  it, 
standing  up  straight  and  strong  in  his 
knickerbockers.  I  like  men  in  knicker 
bockers.  Aunt  Celia  does  n't.  She  says 
she  does  n't  see  how  a  well-brought-up 
Copley  can  go  about  with  his  legs  in  that 
condition.  I  would  give  worlds  to  know 
how  aunt  Celia  ever  unbent  sufficiently  to 
get  engaged.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  Mr. 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          31 

Copley  has  accomplished  something,  young 
as  he  is.  He  has  built  three  picturesque 
suburban  churches  suitable  for  weddings, 
and  a  state  lunatic  asylum. 

Aunt  Celia  says  we  shall  have  no  worthy 
architecture  until  every  building  is  made 
an  exquisitely  sincere  representation  of  its 
deepest  purpose,  —  a  symbol,  as  it  were, 
of  its  indwelling  meaning.  I  should  think 
it  would  be  very  difficult  to  design  a  luna 
tic  asylum  on  that  basis,  but  I  did  n't  dare 
say  so,  as  Mr.  Copley  seemed  to  think  it  all 
right.  Their  conversation  is  absolutely 
sublimated  when  they  get  to  talking  of 
architecture.  I  have  just  copied  two  quo 
tations  from  Emerson,  and  am  studying 
them  every  night  for  fifteen  minutes  before 
I  go  to  sleep.  I  'm  going  to  quote  them 
some  time  offhand,  just  after  morning  ser 
vice,  when  we  are  wandering  about  the  ca 
thedral  grounds.  The  first  is  this  :  "  The 
Gothic  cathedral  is  a  blossoming  in  stone, 
subdued  by  the  insatiable  demand  of  har 
mony  in  man.  The  mountain  of  granite 
blooms  into  an  eternal  flower,  with  the 
lightness  and  delicate  finish  as  well  as  the 
aerial  proportion  and  perspective  of  vege- 


32          A  Cathedral  Courts /tip 

table  beauty."  Then  when  he  has  re 
covered  from  the  shock  of  this,  here  is  my 
second :  "  Nor  can  any  lover  of  nature 
enter  the  old  piles  of  Oxford  and  English 
cathedrals  without  feeling  that  the  forest 
overpowered  the  mind  of  the  builder,  and 
that  his  chisel,  his  saw  and  plane,  still  re 
produced  its  ferns,  its  spikes  of  flowers, 
its  locust,  elm,  pine,  and  spruce." 

Memoranda  :  Lincoln  choir  is  an  example 
of  Early  English  or  First  Pointed,  which 
can  generally  be  told  from  something  else  by 
bold  projecting  buttresses  and  dog-tooth  mould 
ing  round  the  abacusses.  (The  plural  is  my 
own,  and  it  does  not  look  right.)  Lincoln 
Castle  was  the  scene  of  many  prolonged  sieges, 
and  was  once  taken  by  Oliver  Cromwell. 


HE 


YORK,  June  24. 
The  Black  Swan. 

Kitty  Schuyler  is  the  concentrated  es 
sence  of  feminine  witchery.  Intuition 
strong,  logic  weak,  and  the  two  qualities 
so  balanced  as  to  produce  an  indefinable 


A   Cathedral  Courtship  33 

charm  ;  will-power  large,  but  docility  equal, 
if  a  man  is  clever  enough  to  know  how  to 
manage  her  ;  knowledge  of  facts  absolutely 
ni/j  but  she  is  exquisitely  intelligent  in 
spite  of  it.  She  has  a  way  of  evading, 
escaping,  eluding,  and  then  gives  you  an 
intoxicating  hint  of  sudden  and  complete 
surrender.  She  is  divinely  innocent,  but 
roguishness  saves  her  from  insipidity. 
Her  looks  ?  She  looks  as  you  would  in> 
agine  a  person  might  look  who  possessed 
these  graces ;  and  she  is  worth  looking  at, 
though  every  time  I  do  it  I  have  a  rush 
of  love  to  the  head.  When  you  find  a 
girl  who  combines  all  the  qualities  you 
have  imagined  in  the  ideal,  and  who  has 
added  a  dozen  or  two  on  her  own  account, 
merely  to  distract  you  past  all  hope,  why 
stand  up  and  try  to  resist  her  charm? 
Down  on  your  knees  like  a  man,  say  I ! 

I  'm  getting  to  adore  aunt  Celia.  I 
did  n't  care  for  her  at  first,  but  she  is  so 
deliciously  blind !  Anything  more  ex 
quisitely  unserviceable  as  a  chaperon  I 
can't  imagine.  Absorbed  in  antiquity,  she 
ignores  the  babble  of  contemporaneous 


34          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

lovers.  That  any  man  could  look  at 
Kitty  when  he  could  look  at  a  cathedral 
passes  her  comprehension.  I  do  not  pre 
sume  too  greatly  on  her  absent-minded 
ness,  however,  lest  she  should  turn  unex 
pectedly  and  rend  me.  I  always  remember 
that  inscription  on  the  backs  of  the  little 
mechanical  French  toys,  —  "  Quoiqu'elle 
soit  tres  solidement  monte'e,  il  faut  ne  pas 
brutaliser  la  machine." 

And  so  my  courtship  progresses  under 
aunt  Celia's  very  nose.  I  say  "pro 
gresses,"  but  it  is  impossible  to  speak 
with  any  certainty  of  courting,  for  the  es 
sence  of  that  gentle  craft  is  hope,  rooted 
in  labor  and  trained  by  love. 

I  set  out  to  propose  to  her  during  ser 
vice  this  afternoon  by  writing  my  feelings 
on  the  fly-leaf  of  the  hymn-book,  or  some 
thing  like  that ;  but  I  knew  that  aunt  Celia 
would  never  forgive  such  blasphemy,  and 
I  thought  that  Kitty  herself  might  consider 
it  wicked.  Besides,  if  she  should  chance 
to  accept  me,  there  was  nothing  I  could 
do,  in  a  cathedral,  to  relieve  my  feelings. 
No ;  if  she  ever  accepts  me,  I  wish  it  to 
be  in  a  large,  vacant  spot  of  the  universe, 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          35 

peopled  by  two  only,  and  those  two  so 
indistinguishably  blended,  as  it  were,  that 
they  would  appear  as  one  to  the  casual 
observer.  So  I  practiced  repression, 
though  the  wall  of  my  reserve  is  worn  to 
the  thinness  of  thread-paper,  and  I  tried 
to  keep  my  mind  on  the  droning  minor 
canon,  and  not  to  look  at  her,  "  for  that 
way  madness  lies." 


SHE 

YORK,  June  26. 
High  Petersgate  Street. 

My  taste  is  so  bad !  I  just  begin  to  reaU 
ize  it,  and  I  am  feeling  my  "  growing  pains," 
like  Gwendolen  in  "  Daniel  Deronda."  I 
admired  the  stained  glass  in  the  Lincoln 
Cathedral,  especially  the  Nuremberg  win 
dow.  I  thought  Mr.  Copley  looked  pained, 
but  he  said  nothing.  When  I  went  to  my 
room,  I  looked  in  a  book  and  found  that 
all  the  glass  in  that  cathedral  is  very 
modern  and  very  bad,  and  the  Nuremberg 
window  is  the  worst  of  all.  Aunt  Celia 
says  she  hopes  that  it  will  be  a  warning  to 


36          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

me  to  read  before  I  speak ;  but  Mr.  Cop 
ley  says  no,  that  the  world  would  lose 
more  in  one  way  than  it  would  gain  in  the 
other.  I  tried  my  quotations  this  morning, 
and  stuck  fast  in  the  middle  of  the  first. 

Mr.  Copley  says  that  aunt  Celia  has 
been  feeing  the  vergers  altogether  too 
much,  and  I  wrote  a  song  about  it  called 
"The  Ballad  of  the  Vergers  and  the  Fool 
ish  Virgin,"  which  I  sang  to  my  guitar. 
Mr.  Copley  says  it  is  cleverer  than  any 
thing  he  ever  did  with  his  pencil,  but  of 
course  he  says  that  only  to  be  agreeable. 

We  all  went  to  an  evening  service  last 
night.  Coming  home,  aunt  Celia  walked 
ahead  with  Mrs.  Benedict,  who  keeps  turn 
ing  up  at  the  most  unexpected  moments. 
She  's  going  to  build  a  Gothicky  memo 
rial  chapel  somewhere.  I  don't  know  for 
whom,  unless  it  's  for  Benedict  Arnold. 
I  don't  like  her  in  the  least,  but  four  is 
certainly  a  more  comfortable  number  than 
three.  I  scarcely  ever  have  a  moment 
alone  with  Mr.  Copley ;  for  go  where  I 
will  and  do  what  I  please,  aunt  Celia  has 
the  most  perfect  confidence  in  my  indis 
cretion,  so  she  is  always  en  evidence. 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          37 

Just  as  we  were  turning  into  the  quiet 
little  street  where  we  are  lodging  I  said, 
"  Oh  dear,  I  wish  that  I  knew  something 
about  architecture  ! " 

"  If  you  don't  know  anything  about  it, 
you  are  certainly  responsible  for  a  good 
deal  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Copley. 

"  I  ?  How  do  you  mean  ? "  I  asked 
quite  innocently,  because  I  could  n't  see 
how  he  could  twist  such  a  remark  as  that 
into  anything  like  sentiment. 

"  I  have  never  built  so  many  castles  in 
my  life  as  since  I  've  known  you,  Miss 
Schuyler,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,"  I  answered  as  lightly  as  I  could, 
"air-castles  don't  count." 

"The  building  of  air-castles  is  an  in 
nocent  amusement  enough,  I  suppose," 
he  said,  "  but  I  'm  committing  the  folly  of 
living  in  mine.  I  "  — 

Then  I  was  frightened.  When,  all  at 
once,  you  find  you  have  something  pre 
cious  you  only  dimly  suspected  was  to  be 
yourSj  you  almost  wish  it  had  n't  come  so 
soon.  But  just  at  that  moment  Mrs.  Bene 
dict  called  to  us,  and  came  tramping  back 
from  the  gate,  and  hooked  her  supercilious, 


38          A   Cathedral  Courts/lip 

patronizing  arm  in  Mr.  Copley's,  and  asked 
him  into  the  sitting-room  to  talk  over 
the  "  lady  chapel "  in  her  new  memorial 
church.  Then  aunt  Celia  told  me  they 
would  excuse  me,  as  I  had  had  a  weari 
some  day ;  and  there  was  nothing  for  me 
to  do  but  to  go  to  bed,  like  a  snubbed 
child,  and  wonder  if  I  should  ever  know 
the  end  of  that  sentence.  And  I  listened 
at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  shivering,  but 
all  that  I  could  hear  was  that  Mrs.  Bene 
diet  asked  Mr.  Copley  to  be  her  own  archi 
tect.  Her  architect  indeed  !  That  woman 
ought  not  to  be  at  large ! 


DURHAM,  July  15 
At  Farmer  Hendry's. 

We  left  York  this  morning,  and  arrived 
here  about  eleven  o'clock.  It  seems  there 
is  some  sort  of  an  election  going  on  in  the 
town,  and  there  was  not  a  single  fly  at 
the  station.  Mr.  Copley  walked  about  in 
every  direction,  but  neither  horse  nor  vehi 
cle  was  to  be  had  for  love  nor  money.  At 
last  we  started  to  walk  to  the  village,  Mr. 
Copley  so  laden  with  our  hand-luggage 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          39 

that  he  resembled  a  pack-mule.  We  made 
a  tour  of  the  inns,  but  not  a  single  room 
was  to  be  had,  not  for  that  night  nor  for 
three  days  ahead,  on  account  of  that  same 
election. 

"  Had  n't  we  better  go  on  to  Edinburgh, 
aunt  Celia  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Edinburgh  ?  Never  !  "  she  replied. 
"  Do  you  suppose  that  I  would  voluntarily 
spend  a  Sunday  in  those  bare  Presbyterian 
churches  until  the  memory  of  these  past 
ideal  weeks  has  faded  a  little  from  my 
memory  ?  What,  leave  out  Durham  and 
spoil  the  set  ? "  (She  spoke  of  the  cathe 
drals  as  if  they  were  souvenir  spoons.) 
*  I  intended  to  stay  here  for  a  week  or 
more,  and  write  up  a  record  of  our  entire 
trip  from  Winchester  while  the  impressions 
were  fresh  in  my  mind." 

"  And  I  had  intended  doing  the  same 
thing,"  said  Mr.  Copley.  "That  is,  I 
hoped  to  finish  off  my  previous  sketches, 
which  are  in  a  frightful  state  of  incomple- 
tion,  and  spend  a  good  deal  of  time  on 
the  interior  of  this  cathedral,  which  is  un 
usually  beautiful."  (At  this  juncture  aunt 
Celia  disappeared  for  a  moment  to  ask  the 


4O          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

barmaid  if,  in  her  opinion,  the  constant 
consumption  of  malt  liquors  prevents  a 
more  dangerous  indulgence  in  brandy  and 
whiskey.  She  is  gathering  statistics,  but 
as  the  barmaids  can  never  collect  their 
thoughts  while  they  are  drawing  ale,  aunt 
Celia  proceeds  slowly.) 

"  For  my  part,"  said  I,  with  mock  humil 
ity,  "  I  am  a  docile  person  who  never  has 
any  intentions  of  her  own,  but  who  yields 
herself  sweetly  to  the  intentions  of  other 
people  in  her  immediate  vicinity." 

"  Are  you  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Copley,  taking 
out  his  pencil. 

"Yes,  I  said  so.  What  are  you  do 
ing?" 

"  Merely  taking  note  of  your  statement, 
that 's  all.  —  Now,  Miss  Van  Tyck,  I  have 
a  plan  to  propose.  I  was  here  last  sum 
mer  with  a  couple  of  Harvard  men,  and 
we  lodged  at  a  farmhouse  a  mile  or  two 
from  the  cathedral.  If  you  will  step  into 
the  coffee-room  of  the  Shoulder  of  Mutton 
and  Cauliflower  for  an  hour,  I  '11  walk  up 
to  Farmer  Hendry's  and  see  if  they  will 
take  us  in.  I  think  we  might  be  fairly 
comfortable." 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          41 

"  Can  aunt  Celia  have  Apollinaris  and 
black  coffee  after  her  morning  bath  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  I  hope,  Katharine,"  said  aunt  Celia 
majestically,  —  "I  hope  that  I  can  accom 
modate  myself  to  circumstances.  If  Mr. 
Copley  can  secure  lodgings  for  us,  I  shall 
be  more  than  grateful." 

So  here  we  are,  all  lodging  together  in 
an  ideal  English  farmhouse.  There  is  a 
thatched  roof  on  one  of  the  old  buildings, 
and  the  dairy  house  is  covered  with  ivy, 
and  Farmer  Hendry's  wife  makes  a  real 
English  courtesy,  and  there  are  herds  of 
beautiful  sleek  Durham  cattle,  and  the 
butter  and  cream  and  eggs  and  mutton 
are  delicious ;  and  I  never,  never  want  to 
go  home  any  more.  I  want  to  live  here 
forever,  and  wave  the  American  flag  on 
Washington's  birthday. 

I  am  so  happy  that  I  feel  as  if  some 
thing  were  going  to  spoil  it  all.  Twenty 
years  old  to-day!  I  wish  mamma  were 
alive  to  wish  me  many  happy  returns. 

Memoranda  :  Casual  remark  for  break 
fast  table  or  perhaps  for  luncheon,  —  it  is 
a  trifle  heavy  for  breakfast:  "Since  the 


42          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

sixteenth  century  and  despite  the  work  of 
Inigo  Jones  and  the  great  Wren  (not  Jenny 
Wren  —  Christopher),  architecture  has  had, 
in  England  especially,  no  legitimate  devel 
opment" 


HE 


DURHAM,  July  19. 

O  child  of  fortune,  thy  name  is  J.  Q. 
Copley  !  How  did  it  happen  to  be  elec 
tion  time  ?  Why  did  the  inns  chance  to 
be  full  ?  How  did  aunt  Celia  relax  suf 
ficiently  to  allow  me  to  find  her  a  lodging  ? 
Why  did  she  fall  in  love  with  the  lodging 
when  found  ?  I  do  not  know.  I  only 
know  Fate  smiles ;  that  Kitty  and  I  eat 
our  morning  bacon  and  eggs  together ; 
that  I  carve  Kitty's  cold  beef  and  pour 
Kitty's  sparkling  ale  at  luncheon  ;  that  I 
go  to  vespers  with  Kitty,  and  dine  with 
Kitty,  and  walk  in  the  gloaming  with  Kitty 

—  and  aunt  Celia.     And  after  a  day  of 
heaven  like  this,  like  Lorna  Doone's  lover, 

—  ay,  and  like  every  other  lover,  I  sup 
pose,  —  I  go  to  sleep,  and  the  roof  above 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          43 

me  swarms  with  angels,  having  Kitty 
under  it ! 

We  were  coming  home  from  afternoon 
service,  Kitty  and  I.  (I  am  anticipating, 
for  she  was  "  Miss  Schuyler "  then,  but 
never  mind.)  We  were  walking  through 
the  fields,  while  Mrs.  Benedict  and  aunt 
Celia  were  driving.  As  we  came  across  a 
corner  of  the  bit  of  meadow  land  that 
joins  the  stable  and  the  garden,  we  heard 
a  muffled  roar,  and  as  we  looked  round 
we  saw  a  creature  with  tossing  horns  and 
waving  tail  making  for  us,  head  down, 
eyes  flashing.  Kitty  gave  a  shriek.  We 
chanced  to  be  near  a  pair  of  low  bars.  I 
had  n't  been  a  college  athlete  for  nothing. 
I  swung  Kitty  over  the  bars,  and  jumped 
after  her.  But  she,  not  knowing  in  her 
fright  where  she  was  nor  what  she  was 
doing ;  supposing,  also,  that  the  mad  crea 
ture,  like  the  villain  in  the  play,  would  "  still 
pursue  her,"  flung  herself  bodily  into  my 
arms,  crying,  "  Jack  !  Jack  !  Save  me  !  " 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  called  me 
"  Jack,"  and  I  needed  no  second  invita 
tion.  I  proceeded  to  save  her,  —  in  the 
usual  way,  by  holding  her  to  my  heart  and 


44          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

kissing  her  lovely  hair  reassuringly,  as  I 
murmured  :  "  You  are  safe,  my  darling  ; 
not  a  hair  of  your  precious  head  shall  be 
hurt.  Don't  be  frightened." 

She  shivered  like  a  leaf.  "  I  am  fright 
ened,"  she  said.  "  I  can't  help  being 
frightened.  He  will  chase  us,  I  know. 
Where  is  he  ?  What  is  he  doing  now  ?  " 

Looking  up  to  determine  if  I  need  ab 
breviate  this  blissful  moment,  I  saw  the 
enraged  animal  disappearing  in  the  side 
door  of  the  barn ;  and  it  was  a  nice,  com 
fortable  Durham  cow,  —  that  somewhat 
rare  but  possible  thing,  a  sportive  cow  ! 

"  Is  he  gone  ?  "  breathed  Kitty  from  my 
waistcoat. 

"Yes,  he  is  gone  —  she  is  gone,  dar 
ling.  But  don't  move ;  it  may  come 
again." 

My  first  too  hasty  assurance  had  calmed 
Kitty's  fears,  and  she  raised  her  charming 
flushed  face  from  its  retreat  and  pre 
pared  to  withdraw.  I  did  not  facilitate  the 
preparations,  and  a  moment  of  awkward 
silence  ensued. 

"Might  I  inquire,"  I  asked,  "if  the 
dear  little  person  at  present  reposing  in 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          45 

my  arms  will  stay  there  (with  intervals  for 
rest  and  refreshment)  for  the  rest  of  her 
natural  life  ?  " 

She  withdrew  entirely  now,  all  but  her 
hand,  and  her  eyes  sought  the  ground. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  now,  —  that 
is,  if  you  think  —  at  least,  I  suppose  you 
do  think  —  at  any  rate,  you  look  as  if  you 
were  thinking — that  this  has  been  giving 
you  encouragement." 

"  I  do  indeed,  —  decisive,  undoubted, 
barefaced  encouragement." 

"  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  be  judged  as 
if  I  were  in  my  sober  senses,"  she  replied. 
"I  was  frightened  within  an  inch  of  my 
life.  I  told  you  this  morning  that  I  was 
dreadfully  afraid  of  bulls,  especially  mad 
ones,  and  I  told  you  that  my  nurse  fright 
ened  me,  when  I  was  a  child,  with  awful 
stories  about  them,  and  that  I  never  out 
grew  my  childish  terror.  I  looked  every 
where  about :  the  barn  was  too  far,  the 
fence  too  high,  I  saw  him  coming,  and 
there  was  nothing  but  you  and  the  open 
country;  of  course  I  took  you.  It  was 
very  natural,  I  'm  sure,  —  any  girl  would 
have  done  it." 


46          A   Cathedral  Courtship 

"  To  be  sure,"  I  replied  soothingly, 
"  any  girl  would  have  run  after  me,  as  you 
say." 

"I  did  n't  say  any  girl  would  have  run 
after  you,  — you  need  n't  flatter  yourself ; 
and  besides,  I  think  I  was  really  trying  to 
protect  you  as  well  as  to  gain  protection  ; 
else  why  should  I  have  cast  myself  on  you 
like  a  catamount,  or  a  catacomb,  or  what 
ever  the  thing  is  ?  " 

"  Yes,  darling,  I  thank  you  for  saving 
my  life,  and  I  am  willing  to  devote  the  re 
mainder  of  it  to  your  service  as  a  pledge 
of  my  gratitude;  but  if  you  should  take 
up  life-saving  as  a  profession,  dear,  don't 
throw  yourself  on  a  fellow  with  "  — 

"  Jack  !  Jack  !  "  she  cried,  putting  her 
hand  over  my  lips,  and  getting  it  well 
kissed  in  consequence.  "  If  you  will  only 
forget  that,  and  never,  never  taunt  me 
with  it  afterwards,  I  '11  —  I  '11  —  well,  I  '11 
do  anything  in  reason;  yes,  even  marry 
you  1 " 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          47 


CANTERBURY,  July  31. 
The  Royal  Fountain. 

I  was  never  sure  enough  of  Kitty,  at 
first,  to  dare  risk  telling  her  about  that 
little  mistake  of  hers.  She  is  such  an 
elusive  person  that  I  spend  all  my  time 
in  wooing  her,  and  can  never  lay  flatter 
ing  unction  to  my  soul  that  she  is  really 
won. 

But  after  aunt  Celia  had  looked  up  my 
family  record  and  given  a  provisional  con 
sent,  and  papa  Schuyler  had  cabled  a 
reluctant  blessing,  I  did  not  feel  capable 
of  any  further  self-restraint. 

It  was  twilight  here  in  Canterbury,  and 
we  were  sitting  on  the  vine -shaded  ve 
randa  of  aunt  Celia's  lodging.  Kitty's 
head  was  on  my  shoulder.  There  is  some 
thing  very  queer  about  that ;  when  Kitty's 
head  is  on  my  shoulder,  I  am  not  capable 
of  any  consecutive  train  of  thought.  When 
she  puts  it  there  I  see  stars,  then  myriads 
of  stars,  then,  oh  !  I  can't  begin  to  enu 
merate  the  steps  by  which  ecstasy  mounts 
to  delirium  ;  but  at  all  events,  any  opera- 


48          A  Cathedral  Cottrtship 

tion  which  demands  exclusive  use  of  the 
intellect   is   beyond   me   at   these   times. 
Still  I  gathered  my  stray  wits  together  and 
said,  "  Kitty  !  " 
"  Yes,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Now  that  nothing  but  death  or  mar 
riage  can  separate  us,  I  have  something 
to  confess  to  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  said  serenely,  "  I  know  what 
you  are  going  to  say.  He  was  a  cow." 

I  lifted  her  head  from  my  shoulder 
sternly,  and  gazed  into  her  childlike,  can 
did  eyes. 

"  You  mountain  of  deceit !  How  long 
have  you  known  about  it  ? " 

"  Ever  since  the  first.  Oh,  Jack,  stop 
looking  at  me  in  that  way  !  Not  the  very 
first,  not  when  I  —  not  when  you  —  not 
when  we  —  no,  not  then,  but  the  next 
morning,  I  said  to  Farmer  Hendry,  '  I 
wish  you  would  keep  your  savage  bull 
chained  up  while  we  are  here  ;  aunt  Celia 
is  awfully  afraid  of  them,  especially  those 
that  go  mad,  like  yours  ! '  '  Lor',  miss,' 
said  Farmer  Hendry,  '  he  have  n't  been 
pastured  here  for  three  weeks.  I  keep  him 
six  mile  away.  There  be  n't  nothing  but 


A  Cathedral  Courtship          49 

gentle  cows  in  the  home  medder.'  But  I 
did  n't  think  that  you  knew,  you  secre 
tive  person  !  I  dare  say  you  planned  the 
whole  thing  in  advance,  in  order  to  take 
advantage  of  my  fright !  " 

"  Never !  I  am  incapable  of  such  an 
unnecessary  subterfuge  !  Besides,  Kitty, 
I  could  not  have  made  an  accomplice  of  a 
cow,  you  know." 

"  Then,"  she  said,  with  great  dignity, 
"  if  you  had  been  a  gentleman  and  a  man 
of  honor,  you  would  have  cried,  '  Unhand 
me,  girl !  You  are  clinging  to  me  under 
a  misunderstanding ! '  " 

SHE 

CHESTER,  August  8. 
The  Grosvenor. 

Jack  and  I  are  going  over  this  same 
ground  next  summer,  on  our  wedding  trip. 
We  shall  sail  for  home  next  week,  and  we 
have  n't  half  done  justice  to  the  cathe 
drals.  After  the  first  two,  we  saw  nothing 
but  each  other  on  a  general  background 
of  architecture.  I  hope  my  mind  is  im 
proved,  but  oh,  I  am  so  hazy  about  all 


5O          A  Cathedral  Courtship 

the  facts  I  have  read  since  I  knew  Jack  ! 
Winchester  and  Salisbury  stand  out  su 
perbly  in  my  memory.  They  acquired  their 
ground  before  it  was  occupied  with  other 
matters.  I  shall  never  forget,  for  instance, 
that  Winchester  has  the  longest  spire  and 
Salisbury  the  highest  nave  of  all  the  Eng 
lish  cathedrals.  And  I  shall  never  forget 
so  long  as  I  live  that  Jane  Austen  and 
Isaac  Newt —  Oh  dear!  was  it  Isaac 
Newton  or  Izaak  Walton  that  was  buried 
in  Winchester  and  Salisbury  ?  To  think 
that  that  interesting  fact  should  have 
slipped  from  my  mind,  after  all  the  trou 
ble  I  took  with  it !  But  I  know  that  it 
was  Isaac  somebody,  and  that  he  was 
buried  in  —  well,  he  was  buried  in  one  of 
those  two  places.  I  am  not  certain  which, 
but  I  can  ask  Jack ;  he  is  sure  to  know. 


PENELOPE'S    ENGLISH   EXPE 
RIENCES 

PART    FIRST  :    IN    TOWN 


SMITH'S  HOTEL. 
10  Dovermarle  Street. 

jERE  we  are  in  London  again,  — 
Francesca,  Salemina,  and  I.  Sale- 
mina  is  a  philanthropist  of  the 
Boston  philanthropists,  limited.  I  am  an 
artist.  Francesca  is  —  It  is  very  difficult 
to  label  Francesca.  She  is,  at  her  present 
stage  of  development,  just  a  nice  girl ; 
that  is  about  all :  the  sense  of  humanity 
has  n't  dawned  upon  her  yet ;  she  is  even 
unaware  that  personal  responsibility  for 
the  universe  has  come  into  vogue,  and  sc 
she  is  happy. 

Francesca  is  short  of  twenty  years  old, 
Salemina  short  of  forty,  I  short  of  thirty. 


52   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

Francesca  is  in  love,  Salemina  never  has 
been  in  love,  I  never  shall  be  in  love. 
Francesca  is  rich,  Salemina  is  well-to-do, 
I  am  poor.  There  we  are  in  a  nutshell. 

We  are  not  cnly  in  London  again,  but 
we  are  again  in  Smith's  private  hotel ;  one 
of  those  deliciously  comfortable  and  en 
snaring  hostelries  in  Mayfair  which  one 
enters  as  a  solvent  human  being,  and 
which  one  leaves  as  a  bankrupt,  no  matter 
what  may  be  the  number  of  ciphers  on 
one's  letter  of  credit ;  since  the  greater 
one's  apparent  supply  of  wealth,  the  great 
er  the  demand  made  upon  it.  I  never  stop 
long  in  London  without  determining  to 
give  up  my  art  for  a  private  hotel.  There 
must  be  millions  in  it,  but  I  fear  I  lack 
some  of  the  essential  qualifications  for 
success.  I  never  could  have  the  heart, 
for  example,  to  charge  a  struggling  young 
genius  eight  shillings  a  week  for  two  can 
dles,  and  then  eight  shillings  the  next 
week  for  the  same  two  candles,  which  the 
struggling  young  genius,  by  dint  of  vigor 
ous  economy,  has  managed  to  preserve  to 
a  decent  height.  No,  I  could  never  do  it, 
not  even  if  I  were  certain  that  she  would 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    53 

squander  the  sixteen  shillings  in  Bond 
Street  fripperies  instead  of  laying  them  up 
against  the  rainy  day. 


II 

It  is  Salemina  who  always  unsnarls  the 
weekly  bill.  Francesca  spends  an  even 
ing  or  two  with  it,  first  of  all,  because, 
since  she  is  so  young,  we  think  it  good 
mental  training  for  her.  Not  that  she 
ever  accomplishes  any  results  worth  men 
tioning.  She  begins  by  making  three  col 
umns,  headed  respectively  F.,  ,S.,  and  P. 

These  initials  stand  for  Francesca,  Sale 
mina,  and  Penelope,  but  they  resemble 
the  signs  for  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence 
so  perilously  that  they  introduce  an  added 
distraction.  * 

She  then  places  in  each  column  the 
items  in  which  we  are  all  equal,  such  as 
rooms,  attendance,  and  lights.  Then  come 
the  extras,  which  are  different  for  each 
person  :  more  ale  for  one,  more  hot  baths 
for  another  ;  more  carriages  for  one,  more 
lemon  squashes  for  another.  Francesca's 
column  is  principally  filled  with  carriages 


54   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

and  lemon  squashes.  You  would  fancy 
her  whole  time  was  spent  in  driving  and 
drinking,  if  you  judged  her  merely  by  this 
weekly  statement  at  the  hotel.  When  sh« 
has  reached  the  point  of  dividing  the 
whole  bill  into  three  parts,  so  that  each  per 
son  may  know  what  is  her  share,  she  adds 
the  three  together,  expecting,  not  unnat 
urally,  to  get  the  total  amount  of  the  bill. 
Not  at  all.  She  never  comes  within  thirty 
shillings  of  the  desired  amount,  and  she 
is  often  three  or  four  guineas  to  the  good 
or  to  the  bad.  One  of  her  difficulties  lies 
in  her  inability  to  remember  that  in  Eng 
lish  money  it  makes  a  difference  where 
you  place  a  figure,  whether  in  the  pound, 
shilling,  or  pence  column.  Having  been 
educated  on  the  theory  that  a  six  is  a  six 
the  world  over,  she  charged  me  with  sixty 
shillings'  worth  of  Apollinaris  in  one  week. 
I  pounced  on  the  error,  and  found  that 
she  had  jotted  down  each  pint  in  the  shil 
ling  instead  of  in  the  pence  column. 

After  Francesca  has  broken  ground  on 
the  bill  in  this  way,  Salemina,  on  the  next 
leisure  evening,  draws  a  large  armchair 
under  the  lamp  and  puts  on  her  eyeglasses. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    55 

We  perch  on  either  arm,  and,  after  iden 
tifying  our  own  extras,  we  leave  her  toil 
ing  like  Cicero  in  his  retirement  at  Tus- 
culum.  By  midnight  she  has  generally 
brought  the  account  to  a  point  where 
a  half-hour's  fresh  attention  in  the  early 
morning  will  finish  it.  Not  that  she  makes 
it  come  out  right  to  a  penny.  She  has 
been  treasurer  of  the  Boston  Band  of 
Benevolence,  of  the  Saturday  Morning 
Slojd  Circle,  of  the  Club  for  the  Recep 
tion  of  Russian  Refugees,  and  of  the 
Society  for  the  Brooding  of  Buddhism ; 
but  none  of  these  organizations  carries 
on  its  existence  by  means  of  pounds,  shil 
lings,  and  pence,  or  Salemina's  resigna 
tion  would  have  been  requested  long  ago. 
However,  we  are  not  disposed  to  be  cap 
tious  ;  we  are  too  glad  to  get  rid  of  the  bill. 
If  our  united  thirds  make  four  or  five  shil 
lings  in  excess,  we  divide  them  equally  • 
if  it  comes  the  other  way  about,  we  make 
it  up  in  the  same  manner ;  always  meet 
ing  the  sneers  of  masculine  critics  with 
Dr.  Holmes's  remark  that  a  faculty  for 
numbers  is  a  sort  of  detached-lever  ar 
rangement  that  can  be  put  into  a  mighty 
poor  watch. 


56   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

III 

Salemina  is  so  English  !  I  can't  think 
how  she  manages.  She  had  not  been  an 
hour  on  British  soil  before  she  asked  a 
servant  to  fetch  in  some  coals  and  mend 
the  fire ;  she  followed  this  Anglicism  by 
a  request  for  a  grilled  chop,  "  a  grilled, 
chump  chop,  waiter,  please,"  and  so  on 
from  triumph  to  triumph.  She  now  dis 
courses  of  methylated  spirits  as  if  she 
had  never  in  her  life  heard  of  alcohol, 
and  all  the  English  equivalents  for  Amer 
icanisms  are  ready  for  use  on  the  tip  of 
her  tongue.  She  says  "  conserv't'ry  "  and 
"  observ't'ry ; "  she  calls  the  chamber 
maid  "  Mairy,"  which  is  infinitely  softer, 
to  be  sure,  than  the  American  "  Mary," 
with  its  over-long  a;  she  ejaculates, 
"  Quite  so  !  "  in  all  the  pauses  of  conver 
sation,  and  talks  of  smoke-rooms,  and 
camisoles,  and  luggage  -  vans,  and  slip- 
bodies,  and  trams,  and  mangling,  and  gof 
fering.  She  also  eats  jam  for  breakfast 
as  if  she  had  been  reared  on  it,  when 
every  one  knows  that  the  average  Amer 
ican  has  to  contract  the  jam  habit  by  pa 
tient  and  continuous  practice. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    57 

This  instantaneous  assimilation  of  Eng 
lish  customs  does  not  seem  to  be  affecta 
tion  on  Salemina's  part ;  nor  will  I  wrong 
her  by  fancying  that  she  went  through  a 
course  of  training  before  she  left  Boston. 
From  the  moment  she  landed  you  could 
see  that  her  foot  was  on  her  native  heath. 
She  inhaled  the  fog  with  a  sense  of  intoxi 
cation  that  the  east  winds  of  New  Eng 
land  had  never  given  her,  and  a  great 
throb  of  patriotism  swelled  in  her  breast 
when  she  first  met  the  Princess  of  Wales 
in  Hyde  Park. 

As  for  me,  I  get  on  charmingly  with  the 
English  nobility  and  sufficiently  well  with 
the  gentry,  but  the  upper  servants  strike 
terror  to  my  soul.  There  is  something 
awe-inspiring  to  me  about  an  English  but 
ler.  If  they  would  only  put  him  in  livery,  or 
make  him  wear  a  silver  badge  ;  anything, 
in  short,  to  temper  his  pride  and  prevent 
one  from  mistaking  him  for  the  master  of 
the  house  or  the  bishop  within  his  gates. 
When  I  call  upon  Lady  DeWolfe,  I  say  to 
myself  impressively,  as  I  go  up  the  steps : 
"  You  are  as  good  as  a  butler,  as  well  born 
and  well  bred  as  a  butler,  even  more  intel- 


58    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

ligent  than  a  butler.  Now,  simply  because 
he  has  an  unapproachable  haughtiness  of 
demeanor,  which  you  can  respectfully  ad 
mire,  but  can  never  hope  to  imitate,  do 
not  cower  beneath  the  polar  light  of  his 
eye  ;  assert  yourself ;  be  a  woman  ;  be  an 
American  citizen ! "  All  in  vain.  The 
moment  the  door  opens  I  ask  for  Lady 
DeWolfe  in  so  timid  a  tone  that  I  know 
Parker  thinks  me  the  parlor  maid's  sister 
who  has  rung  the  visitor's  bell  by  mistake. 
If  my  lady  is  within,  I  follow  Parker  to 
the  drawing-room,  my  knees  shaking  un 
der  me  at  the  prospect  of  committing  some 
solecism  in  his  sight.  Lady  DeWolfe's 
husband  has  been  noble  only  four  months, 
and  Parker  of  course  knows  it,  and  per 
haps  affects  even  greater  hauteur  to  divert 
the  attention  of  the  vulgar  commoner  from 
the  newness  of  the  title. 

Dawson,  our  butler  at  Smith's  private 
hotel,  wields  the  same  blighting  influence 
on  our  spirits,  accustomed  to  the  soft 
solicitations  of  the  negro  waiter  or  the 
comfortable  indifference  of  the  free-born 
American.  We  never  indulge  in  ordinary 
democratic  or  frivolous  conversation  when 


"  Unapproachable   haughtiness   of  demeanor  " 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    59 

Dawson  is  serving  us  at  dinner.  We  "  talk 
up  "  to  him  so  far  as  we  are  able,  and  be 
fore  we  utter  any  remark  we  inquire  men 
tally  whether  he  is  likely  to  think  it  good 
form.  Accordingly,  I  maintain  through 
out  dinner  a  lofty  height  of  aristocratic 
elegance  that  impresses  even  the  impas 
sive  Dawson,  towards  whom  it  is  solely 
directed.  To  the  amazement  and  amuse 
ment  of  Salemina  (who  always  takes  my 
cheerful  inanities  at  their  face  value),  I  give 
an  hypothetical  account  of  my  afternoon 
engagements,  interlarding  it  so  thickly 
with  countesses  and  marchionesses  and 
lords  and  honorables  that  though  Dawson 
has  passed  soup  to  duchesses,  and  scarcely 
ever  handed  a  plate  to  anything  less  than 
a  baroness,  he  dilutes  the  customary  scorn 
of  his  glance,  and  makes  it  two  parts  con 
descending  approval  as  it  rests  on  me, 
Penelope  Hamilton,  of  the  great  Amer 
ican  working  class  (unlimited). 


IV 

Apropos  of  the  servants,  it  seems   to 
me  that  the  British  footman  has  relaxed 


60  Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

a  trifle  since  we  were  last  here  ;  or  is  it 
possible  that  he  reaches  the  height  of  his 
immobility  at  the  height  of  the  London 
season,  and  as  it  declines  does  he  decline 
and  become  flesh  ?  At  all  events,  I  have 
twice  seen  a  footman  change  his  weight 
from  one  leg  to  the  other,  as  he  stood  at  a 
shop  entrance  with  his  lady's  mantle  over 
his  arm  ;  twice  have  I  seen  one  scratch  his 
chin,  and  several  times  have  I  observed 
others,  during  this  month  of  August,  con 
duct  themselves  in  many  respects  like 
animate  objects  with  vital  organs.  Lest 
this  incendiary  statement  be  challenged, 
leveled  as  it  is  at  an  institution  whose 
stability  and  order  are  but  feebly  repre 
sented  by  the  eternal  march  of  the  stars  in 
their  courses,  I  hasten  to  explain  that  in 
none  of  these  cases  cited  was  it  a  powdered 
footman  who  (to  use  a  Delsartean  expres 
sion)  withdrew  will  from  his  body  and  de 
vitalized  it  before  the  public  eye.  I  have 
observed  that  the  powdered  personage  has 
much  greater  control  over  his  muscles  than 
the  ordinary  footman  with  human  hair, 
and  is  infinitely  his  superior  in  rigidity. 
I  tremble  to  think  of  what  the  powdered 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   6£ 

footman  may  become  when  he  unbends  in 
the  bosom  of  his  family.  When,  in  the 
privacy  of  his  own  apartments,  the  powder 
is  washed  off,  the  canary-seed  pads  re 
moved  from  his  aristocratic  calves,  and  his 
scarlet  and  buff  magnificence  exchanged 
for  a  simple  ntgligt,  I  should  think  he 
might  be  guilty  of  almost  any  indiscretion 
or  violence.  I  for  one  would  never  con 
sent  to  be  the  wife  and  children  of  a 
powdered  footman,  and  receive  him  in  his 
moments  of  reaction. 


Is  it  to  my  credit,  or  to  my  eternal 
dishonor,  that  I  once  made  a  powdered 
footman  smile,  and  that,  too,  when  he  was 
handing  a  buttered  muffin  to  an  earl's 
daughter  ? 

It  was  while  we  were  paying  a  visit  at 
Marjorimallow  Hall,  Sir  Owen  and  Lady 
Marjorimallow's  place  in  Surrey.  This 
was  to  be  our  first  appearance  in  an  Eng 
lish  country  house,  and  we  made  elaborate 
preparations.  Only  our  freshest  toilets 
were  packed,  and  these  were  arranged  in 


62    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

our  trunks  with  the  sole  view  of  impressing 
the  lady's  maid  who  should  unpack  them. 
We  each  purchased  dressing-cases  and 
new  toilet  articles,  Francesca's  being  of 
sterling  silver,  Salemina's  of  triple  plate, 
and  mine  of  celluloid,  as  befitted  our 
several  fortunes.  Salemina  read  up  on 
English  politics ;  Francesca  practiced  a 
new  way  of  dressing  her  hair  ;  and  I  made 
up  a  portfolio  of  sketches.  We  counted, 
therefore,  on  representing  American  let 
ters,  beauty,  and  art  to  that  portion  of  the 
great  English  public  staying  at  Marjori- 
mallow  Hall.  (I  must  interject  a  paren 
thesis  here  to  the  effect  that  matters  did 
not  move  precisely  as  we  expected  ;  for  at 
table,  where  most  of  our  time  was  passed, 
Francesca  had  for  a  neighbor  a  scientist, 
who  asked  her  plump  whether  the  religion 
of  the  American  Indian  was  or  was  not  a 
pure  theism  ;  Salemina's  partner  objected 
to  the  word  "  politics  "  in  the  mouth  of  a 
woman  ;  while  my  attendant  squire  adored 
a  good  bright-colored  chromo.  But  this 
is  anticipating.) 

Three  days  before  our  departure,  I  re 
marked   at   the  breakfast  table,   Dawson 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   63 

being  absent :  "  My  dear  girls,  you  are 
aware  that  we  have  ordered  fried  eggs, 
scrambled  eggs,  and  poached  eggs  ever 
since  we  came  to  Dovermarle  Street, 
simply  because  we  cannot  eat  boiled  eggs 
prettily  from  the  shell,  English  fashion,  and 
cannot  break  them  into  a  cup  or  a  glass, 
American  fashion,  on  account  of  the  effect 
upon  Dawson.  Now  there  will  certainly  be 
boiled  eggs  at  Marjorimallow  Hall,  and 
we  cannot  refuse  them  morning  after  morn 
ing  ;  it  will  be  cowardly  (which  is  yn- 
pleasant),  and  it  will  be  remarked  (which 
is  worse).  Eating  them  from  an  egg-cup, 
in  a  baronial  hall,  with  the  remains  of  a 
drawbridge  in  the  grounds,  is  equally  im 
possible  ;  if  we  do  that,  Lady  Marjori 
mallow  will  be  having  our  luggage  ex* 
amined,  to  see  if  we  carry  wigwams  and 
war  whoops  about  with  us.  No,  it  is 
clearly  necessary  that  we  master  the  gentle 
art  of  eating  eggs  tidily  and  daintily  from 
the  shell.  I  have  seen  Englishwomen  — 
very  dull  ones,  too  —  do  it  without  ap 
parent  effort ;  I  have  even  seen  an  English 
infant  do  it,  and  that  without  soiling  her 
apron,  or,  as  Salemina  would  say,  '  messing 


64    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

her  pinafore/  I  propose,  therefore,  that 
we  order  soft-boiled  eggs  daily  ;  that  we 
send  Dawson  from  the  room  directly  break 
fast  is  served  ;  and  that  then  and  there 
we  have  a  class  for  opening  eggs,  lowest 
grade,  object  method.  Any  person  who 
cuts  the  shell  badly,  or  permits  the  egg  to 
leak  over  the  rim,  or  allows  yellow  dabs 
on  the  plate,  or  upsets  the  cup,  or  stains 
her  fingers,  shall  be  fined  '  tuppence ' 
and  locked  into  her  bedroom  for  five 
minutes." 

The  first  morning  we  were  all  in  the 
bedroom  together,  and,  there  being  no  in 
nocent  person  to  collect  fines,  the  wild 
est  civil  disorder  prevailed. 

On  the  second  day  Salemina  and  I 
improved  slightly,  but  Francesca  had 
passed  a  sleepless  night,  and  her  hand 
trembled  (the  love-letter  mail  had  come  in 
from  America).  We  were  obliged  to  tell 
her,  as  we  collected  "  tuppence  "  twice  on 
the  same  egg,  that  she  must  either  remain 
at  home,  or  take  an  oilcloth  apron  to  Mar- 
jorimallow  Hall. 

But  "ease  is  the  lovely  result  of  for 
gotten  toil,"  and  it  is  only  a  question  of 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   65 

time  and  desire  with  Americans ;  we  are 
so  clever.  Other  nations  have  to  be 
trained  from  birth  ;  but  as  we  need  only  an 
ounce  of  training  where  they  need  a  pound, 
we  can  afford  to  procrastinate.  Some 
times  we  procrastinate  too  long,  but  that 
is  a  trifle.  On  the  third  morning  success 
crowned  our  efforts.  Salemina  smiled, 
and  I  told  an  anecdote,  during  the  opera 
tion,  although  my  egg  was  cracked  in  the 
boiling,  and  I  question  if  the  Queen's 
favorite  maid  of  honor  could  have  man 
aged  it  prettily.  Accordingly,  when  eggs 
were  brought  to  the  breakfast  table  at 
Marjorimallow  Hall,  we  were  only  slightly 
nervous.  Francesca  was  at  the  far  end  of 
the  long  table,  and  I  do  not  know  how 
she  fared,  but  from  various  Anglicisms 
that  Salemina  dropped,  as  she  chatted 
with  the  Queen's  Counsel  on  her  left,  I 
could  see  that  her  nerve  was  steady  and 
circulation  free.  We  exchanged  glances 
(there  was  the  mistake !),  and  with  an 
excited  laugh  she  struck  her  egg  a  hasty 
blow. 

Her  egg-cup  slipped  and  lurched  ;  a  top 
fraction  of  the  egg  flew  in  the  direction 


66   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

of  the  Q.  C.,  and  the  remaining  portion 
oozed,  in  yellow  confusion,  rapidly  into 
her  plate.  Alas  for  that  past  mistress  of 
elegant  dignity,  Salemina  !  If  I  had  been  at 
her  Majesty's  table,  I  should  have  smiled, 
even  if  I  had  gone  to  the  Tower  the  next 
moment ;  but  as  it  was,  I  became  hysteri 
cal.  My  neighbor,  a  portly  member  of 
Parliament,  looked  amazed,  Salemina  grew 
scarlet,  the  situation  was  charged  with 
danger ;  and,  rapidly  viewing  the  various 
exits,  I  chose  the  humorous  one,  and  told 
as  picturesquely  as  possible  the  whole 
story  of  our  school  of  egg-opening  in 
Dovermarle  Street,  the  highly  arduous  and 
encouraging  rehearsals  conducted  there, 
and  the  stupendous  failure  incident  to  our 
first  public  appearance.  Sir  Owen  led 
the  good-natured  laughter  and  applause; 
lords  and  ladies,  Q.  C.'s  and  M.  P.'s, 
joined  in  with  a  will ;  poor  Salemina 
raised  her  drooping  head,  opened  and  ate 
a  second  egg  with  the  repose  of  a  Vere  de 
Vere  —  and  the  footman  smiled  1 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences  67 


VI 

I  do  not  see  why  we  hear  that  the  Eng 
lishman  is  deficient  in  a  sense  of  humor. 
His  jokes  may  not  be  a  matter  of  daily 
food  to  him,  as  they  are  to  the  American  \ 
he  may  not  love  whimsicality  with  the 
same  passion,  nor  inhale  the  aroma  of  a 
witticism  with  as  keen  a  relish  •  but  he 
likes  fun  whenever  he  sees  it,  and  he  sees 
it  as  often  as  most  people.  It  may  be 
that  we  find  the  Englishman  more  re 
ceptive  to  our  bits  of  feminine  nonsense 
just  now,  simply  because  this  is  the  day 
of  the  American  woman  in  London,  and, 
having  been  assured  that  she  is  an  enter 
taining  personage,  young  John  Bull  is  will 
ing  to  take  it  for  granted  so  long  as  she 
does  n't  want  to  marry  him,  and  even  this 
pleasure  he  will  allow  her  on  occasion,  -cj 
if  well  paid  for  it. 

The  longer  I  live,  the  more  I  feel  it  an 
absurdity  to  label  nations  with  national 
traits,  and  then  endeavor  to  make  individ 
uals  conform  to  the  required  standard. 
It  is  possible,  I  suppose,  to  draw  certain 
broad  distinctions,  Plough  even  these  are 


68   Penelope  s  EnglisJi  Experiences 

subject  to  change  ;  but  the  habit  of  gen 
eralizing  from  one  particular,  that  mainstay 
of  the  cheap  and  obvious  essayist,  has 
rooted  many  fictions  in  the  public  mind. 
Nothing,  for  instance,  can  blot  from  my 
memory  the  profound,  searching,  and  ex 
haustive  analysis  of  a  great  nation  which 
I  learned  in  my  small  geography  when  I 
was  a  child,  namely,  "  The  French  are  a 
gay  and  polite  people,  fond  of  dancing  and 
light  wines." 

One  young  Englishman  whom  I  have 
met  lately  errs  on  the  side  of  over-appre 
ciation.  He  laughs  before,  during,  and 
after  every  remark  I  make,  unless  it  be  a 
simple  request  for  food  or  drink.  This  is 
an  acquaintance  of  Willie  Beresford,  the 
Honorable  Arthur  Ponsonby,  who  was  the 
"  whip  "  on  our  coach  drive  to  Dorking, 
—  dear,  delightful,  adorable  Dorking,  of 
hen  celebrity. 

Salemina  insisted  on  my  taking  the  box 
seat,  in  the  hope  that  the  Honorable 
Arthur  would  amuse  me.  She  little  knew 
him  !  He  sapped  me  of  all  my  ideas,  and 
gave  me  none  in  exchange.  Anything  so 
unspeakably  heavy  I  never  encountered. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences  69 

It  is  very  difficult  for  a  woman  who  does 
n't  know  a  nigh  horse  from  an  off  one, 
nor  the  wheelers  from  the  headers  (or  is  it 
the  fronters  ?),  to  find  subjects  of  conver 
sation  with  a  gentleman  who  spends  three 
fourths  of  his  existence  on  a  coach.  It 
was  the  more  difficult  for  me  because  I 
could  not  decide  whether  Willie  Beresford 
was  cross  because  I  was  devoting  myself 
to  the  whip,  or  because  Francesca  had  re 
mained  at  home  with  a  headache.  This 
state  of  affairs  continued  for  about  fifteen 
miles,  when  it  suddenly  dawned  upon  the 
Honorable  Arthur  that,  however  mistaken 
my  speech  and  manner,  I  was  trying  to 
be  agreeable.  This  conception  acted  on 
the  honest  and  amiable  soul  like  magic. 
I  gradually  became  comprehensible,  and 
finally  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  theory 
that,  though  eccentric,  I  was  harmless  and 
amusing,  so  we  got  on  famously,  —  so 
famously  that  Willie  Beresford  grew  ri 
diculously  gloomy,  and  I  decided  that  it 
could  not  be  Francesca's  headache. 

The  names  of  these  English  streets  are 
a  never-failing  source  of  delight  to  me. 
In  that  one  morning  we  drove  past  Pie, 


70   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

Pudding,  and  Petticoat  Lanes,  and  later 
on  we  found  ourselves  in  a  "  Prudent 
Passage,"  which  opened,  very  inappropri 
ately,  into  "  Huggin  Lane."  Willie  Beres- 
ford  said  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
heard  of  anything  so  disagreeable  as  pru 
dence  terminating  in  anything  so  agree 
able  as  huggin'.  When  he  had  been 
severely  reprimanded  by  Mrs.  Beresford 
for  this  shocking  speech,  I  said  to  the 
Honorable  Arthur :  — 

"  I  don't  understand  your  business  signs 
in  England, — this  'Company,  Limited,' 
and  that  *  Company,  Limited.'  That  one, 
of  course,  is  quite  plain  "  (pointing  to  the 
front  of  a  building  on  the  village  street), 
"  '  Goat's  Milk  Company,  Limited  ; '  I  sup 
pose  they  have  but  one  or  two  goats,  and 
necessarily  the  milk  must  be  limited." 

Salemina  says  that  this  was  not  in  the 
least  funny,  that  it  was  absolutely  flat ; 
but  it  had  quite  the  opposite  effect  upon 
the  Honorable  Arthur.  He  had  no  com 
mand  over  himself  or  his  horses  for  some 
minutes  ;  and  at  intervals  during  the  after 
noon  the  full  felicity  of  the  idea  would 
steal  upon  him,  and  the  smile  of  reminis 
cence  would  flit  across  his  ruddy  face. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    *j\ 

The  next  day,  at  the  Eton  and  Harrow 
games  at  Lord's  cricket  ground,  he  pre 
sented  three  flowers  of  British  aristocracy 
to  our  party,  and  asked  me  each  time  to 
tell  the  goat  story,  which  he  had  previ 
ously  told  himself,  and  probably  murdered 
in  the  telling.  Not  content  with  this  ar 
rant  flattery,  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
recount  some  of  my  international  episodes 
to  a  literary  friend  who  writes  for  Punch. 
I  demurred  decidedly,  but  Salemina  said 
that  perhaps  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  lower 
myself  a  trifle  for  the  sake  of  elevating 
Punch  !  This  home  thrust  so  delighted 
the  Honorable  Arthur  that  it  remained  his 
favorite  joke  for  days,  and  the  overworked 
goat  was  permitted  to  enjoy  that  oblivion 
from  which  Salemina  insists  it  should 
never  have  emerged. 

VII 

The  Honorable  Arthur,  Salemina,  and 
I  took  a  stroll  in  Hyde  Park  one  Sunday 
afternoon,  not  for  the  purpose  of  joining 
the  fashionable  throng  of  "  pretty  people  " 
at  Stanhope  Gate,  but  to  mingle  with  the 


72   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

common  herd  in  its  special  precincts, — 
precincts  not  set  apart,  indeed,  by  any 
legal  formula,  but  by  a  natural  law  of 
classification  which  seems  to  be  inherent 
in  the  universe.  It  was  a  curious  and 
motley  crowd,  a  little  dull,  perhaps,  but 
orderly,  well  behaved,  and  self-respecting, 
with  here  and  there  part  of  the  flotsam 
and  jetsam  of  a  great  city,  a  ragged,  sod 
den,  hopeless  wretch  wending  his  way 
about  with  the  rest,  thankful  for  any 
diversion. 

Under  the  trees,  each  in  the  centre  of 
his  group,  large  or  small  according  to  his 
magnetism  and  eloquence,  stood  the  park 
"  shouter,"  airing  his  special  grievance, 
playing  his  special  part,  preaching  his 
special  creed,  pleading  his  special  cause, 
—  anything,  probably,  for  the  sake  of 
shouting.  We  were  plainly  dressed,  and 
did  not  attract  observation  as  we  joined 
the  outside  circle  of  one  of  these  groups 
after  another.  It  was  as  interesting  to 
watch  the  listeners  as  the  speakers.  I 
wished  I  might  paint  the  sea  of  faces, 
eager,  anxious,  stolid,  attentive,  happy, 
and  unhappy  :  histories  written  on  man,/ 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   73 

j)f  them ;  others  blank,  unmarked  by  any 
thought  or  aspiration.  I  stole  a  sidelong 
look  at  the  Honorable  Arthur.  He  is  an 
Englishman  first,  and  a  man  afterwards  (I 
prefer  it  the  other  way),  but  he  does  not 
realize  it ;  he  thinks  he  is  just  like  all 
other  good  fellows,  but  he  is  mistaken. 
He  and  Willie  Beresford  speak  the  same 
language,  but  they  are  as  different  as 
Malay  and  Eskimo.  He  is  an  extreme 
type,  but  he  is  very  likable  and  very  well 
worth  looking  at,  with  his  long  coat,  his 
silk  hat,  and  the  white  Malmaison  in  his 
buttonhole.  He  is  always  so  radiantly, 
fascinatingly  clean,  the  Honorable  Arthur, 
simple,  frank,  direct,  sensible,  and  he  bores 
me  almost  to  tears. 

The  first  orator  was  edifying  his  hearers 
with  an  explanation  of  the  drama  of  "The 
Corsican  Brothers,"  and  his  eloquence,  un 
like  that  of  the  other  speakers,  was  largely 
inspired  by  the  hope  of  pennies.  It  was  a 
novel  idea,  and  his  interpretation  was  ren 
dered  very  amusing  to  us  by  the  wholly  ori 
ginal  Yorkshire  accent  which  he  gave  to  the 
French  personages  and  places  in  the  play. 

An  Irishman  in  black  clerical  garb  held 


74   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

the  next  group  together.  He  was  in  some 
trouble,  owing  to  a  pig-headed  and  quar 
relsome  Scotchman  in  the  front  rank,  who 
objected  to  each  statement  that  fell  from 
his  lips,  thus  interfering  seriously  with  the 
effect  of  his  peroration.  If  the  Irishman 
had  been  more  convincing,  I  suppose  the 
crowd  would  have  silenced  the  scoffer,  for 
these  little  matters  of  discipline  are  always 
attended  to  by  the  audience;  but  the 
Scotchman's  points  were  too  well  taken  ; 
he  was  so  trenchant,  in  fact,  at  times,  that 
a  voice  would  cry,  "  Coom  up,  Sandy,  an 
'ave  it  all  yer  own  w'y,  boy  ! "  The  dis 
cussion  continued  as  long  as  we  were 
within  hearing  distance,  for  the  Irishman, 
though  amiable  and  ignorant,  was  firm,  the 
"  unconquered  Scot  "  was  on  his  native 
heath  of  argument,  and  the  little  knot  of 
listeners  were  willing  to  give  them  both  a 
hearing. 

Under  the  next  tree  a  fluent  cockney 
lad  of  sixteen  or  eighteen  years  was  de 
claiming  his  bitter  experiences  with  the 
Salvation  Army.  He  had  been  sheltered 
in  one  of  its  beds  which  was  not  to  his 
taste,  and  it  had  found  employment  for 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   75 

him  which  he  had  to  walk  twenty-two 
miles  to  get,  and  which  was  not  to  his 
liking  when  he  did  get  it.  A  meeting  of 
the  Salvation  Army  at  a  little  distance 
rendered  his  speech  more  interesting,  as 
its  points  were  repeated  and  denied  as  fast 
as  made. 

Of  course  there  were  religious  groups 
and  temperance  groups,  and  groups  de 
voted  to  the  tearing  down  or  raising  up  of 
most  things  except  the  government ;  for 
on  that  day  there  were  no  Anarchist  and 
Socialist  shouters,  as  is  ordinarily  the 
case. 

As  we  strolled  down  one  of  the  broad 
roads  under  the  shade  of  the  noble  trees, 
we  saw  the  sun  setting  in  a  red-gold  haze  ; 
a  glory  of  vivid  color  made  indescribably 
tender  and  opalescent  by  the  kind  of 
luminous  mist  that  veils  it ;  a  wholly  Eng 
lish  sunset,  and  an  altogether  lovely  one. 
And  quite  away  from  the  other  knots  of 
people,  there  leaned  against  a  bit  of  wire 
fence  a  poor  old  man  surrounded  by  half 
a  dozen  children  and  one  tired  woman 
with  a  nursing  baby.  He  had  a  tattered 
book,  which  seemed  to  be  the  story  of  the 


76   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

Gospels,  and  his  little  flock  sat  on  the 
greensward  at  his  feet  as  he  read.  It  may 
be  that  he,  too,  had  been  a  shouter  in  his 
lustier  manhood,  and  had  held  a  larger 
audience  together  by  the  power  of  his  be 
lief  ;  but  now  he  was  helpless  to  attract 
any  but  the  children.  Whether  it  was  the 
pathos  of  his  white  hairs,  his  garb  of 
shreds  and  patches,  or  the  mild  benignity 
of  his  eye  that  moved  me,  I  know  not,  but 
among  all  the  Sunday  shouters  in  Hyde 
Park  it  seemed  to  me  that  that  quavering 
voice  of  the  past  spoke  with  the  truest 
note. 

VIII 

The  English  Park  Lover,  loving  his  love 
on  a  green  bench  in  Kensington  Gardens 
or  Regent's  Park,  or  indeed  in  any  spot 
where  there  is  a  green  bench,  so  long  as 
it  is  within  full  view  of  the  passer-by,  — 
this  English  public  Lover,  male  or  female, 
is  a  most  interesting  study,  for  we  have 
not  his  exact  counterpart  in  America.  He 
is  thoroughly  respectable,  I  should  think, 
my  urban  Colin.  He  does  not  have  the 
air  of  a  gay  deceiver  roving  from  flower 


Helpless   to  attract   any   but   the  children  " 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences  77 

to  flower,  stealing  honey  as  he  goes ;  he 
looks,  on  the  contrary,  as  if  it  were  his 
intention  to  lead  Phoebe  to  the  altar  on 
the  next  bank  holiday;  there  is  a  dead 
calm  in  his  actions  which  bespeaks  no 
other  course.  If  Colin  were  a  Don  Juan, 
surely  he  would  be  a  trifle  more  ardent, 
for  there  is  no  tropical  fervor  in  his  matter- 
of-fact  caresses.  He  does  not  embrace 
Phoebe  in  the  park,  apparently,  because 
he  adores  her  to  madness ;  because  her 
smile  is  like  fire  in  his  veins,  melting  down 
all  his  defenses  ;  because  the  intoxication 
of  her  nearness  is  irresistible  ;  because, 
in  fine,  he  cannot  wait  until  he  finds  a 
more  secluded  spot:  nay,  verily,  he  em 
braces  her  because  —  tell  me,  infatuated 
fruiterers,  poulterers,  soldiers,  haberdash 
ers  (limited),  what  is  your  reason  ?  for  it 
does  not  appear  to  the  casual  eye.  Stormy 
weather  does  not  vex  the  calm  of  the  Park 
Lover,  for  "  the  rains  of  Marly  do  not 
wet "  when  one  is  in  love.  By  a  clever 
manipulation  of  four  arms  and  four  hands 
they  can  manage  an  umbrella  and  enfold 
each  other  at  the  same  time,  though  a 
feminine  mackintosh  is  well  known  to  be 


78   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

ill  adapted  to  the  purpose,  and  a  contin 
uous  drizzle  would  dampen  almost  any 
other  lover  in  the  universe. 

The  park  embrace,  as  nearly  as  I  can 
analyze  it,  seems  to  be  one  part  instinct, 
one  part  duty,  one  part  custom,  and  one 
part  reflex  action.  I  have  purposely 
omitted  pleasure  (which,  in  the  analysis  of 
the  ordinary  embrace,  reduces  all  the  other 
ingredients  to  an  almost  invisible  frac 
tion),  because  I  fail  to  find  it ;  but  I  am 
willing  to  believe  that  in  some  rudimen 
tary  form  it  does  exist,  because  man  attends 
to  no  purely  unpleasant  matter  with  such 
praiseworthy  assiduity.  Anything  more 
fixedly  stolid  than  the  Park  Lover  when 
he  passes  his  arm  round  his  chosen  one 
and  takes  her  crimson  hand  in  his,  I  have 
never  seen  ;  unless,  indeed,  it  be  the  fixed 
stolidity  of  the  chosen  one  herself.  I  had 
not  at  first  the  assurance  even  to  glance 
at  them  as  I  passed  by,  blushing  myself 
to  the  roots  of  my  hair,  though  the  of 
fenders  themselves  never  changed  color. 
Many  a  time  have  I  walked  out  of  my  way 
or  lowered  my  parasol,  for  fear  of  invad 
ing  their  Sunday  Eden ;  but  a  spirit  of  in- 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   79 

quiry  awoke  in  me  at  last,  and  I  began  to 
make  psychological  investigations,  with  a 
view  to  finding  out  at  what  point  embar 
rassment  would  appear  in  the  Park  Lover. 
I  experimented  (it  was  a  most  arduous 
and  unpleasant  task)  with  upwards  of  two 
hundred  couples,  and  it  is  interesting  to 
record  that  self  -  consciousness  was  not 
apparent  in  a  single  instance.  It  was  not 
merely  that  they  failed  to  resent  my  stop 
ping  in  the  path  directly  opposite  them,  or 
my  glaring  most  offensively  at  them,  nor 
that  they  even  allowed  me  to  sit  upon 
their  green  bench  and  witness  their  chaste 
salutes,  but  it  was  that  they  did  fail  to 
perceive  me  at  all !  There  is  a  kind  of 
superb  finish  and  completeness  about  their 
indifference  to  the  public  gaze  which  re 
moves  it  from  ordinary  immodesty,  and 
gives  it  a  certain  scientific  value. 


IX 

Among  all  my  English  experiences,  none 
occupies  so  important  a  place  as  my  forced 
meeting  with  the  Duke  of  Cimicifugas. 
(There  can  be  no  harm  in  my  telling  the 


8o   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

incident,  so  long  as  I  do  not  give  the  right 
names,  which  are  very  well  known  to  fame.) 
The  Duchess  of  Cimicifugas,  who  is  charm 
ing,  unaffected,  and  lovable,  so  report  says, 
has  among  her  chosen  friends  an  untitled 
woman  whom  we  will  call  Mrs.  Apis  Mel- 
lifica.  I  met  her  only  daughter,  Hilda,  in 
America,  and  we  became  quite  intimate.  It 
seems  that  Mrs.  Apis  Mellifica,  who  has  an 
income  of  ,£20,000  a  year,  often  exchanges 
presents  with  the  duchess,  and  at  this  time 
she  had  brought  with  her  from  the  Con 
tinent  some  rare  old  tapestries  with  which 
to  adorn  a  new  morning-room  at  Cimici 
fugas  House.  These  tapestries  were  to 
be  hung  during  the  absence  of  the  duch 
ess  in  Homburg,  and  were  to  greet  her  as 
a  birthday  surprise  on  her  return.  Hilda 
Mellifica,  who  is  one  of  the  most  talented 
amateur  artists  in  London,  and  who  has 
exquisite  taste  in  all  matters  of  decora 
tion,  was  to  go  down  to  the  ducal  resi 
dence  to  inspect  the  work,  and  she  ob 
tained  permission  from  Lady  Veratrum 
(the  confidential  companion  of  the  duch 
ess)  to  bring  me  with  her.  I  started  on 
this  journey  to  the  country  with  all  pos- 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   8 1 

sible  delight,  little  surmising  the  agonies 
that  lay  in  store  for  me  in  the  mercifully 
hidden  future. 

The  tapestries  were  perfect,  and  Lady 
Veratrum  was  most  amiable  and  affable, 
though  the  blue  blood  of  the  Belladonnas 
courses  in  her  veins,  and  her  great-grand 
father  was  the  celebrated  Earl  of  Rhus 
Tox,  who  rendered  such  notable  service 
to  his  sovereign.  We  roamed  through  the 
splendid  apartments,  inspected  the  superb 
picture  gallery,  where  scores  of  dead-and- 
gone  Cimicifugases  (most  of  them  very 
plain)  were  glorified  by  the  art  of  Van 
Dyck,  Sir  Joshua,  or  Gainsborough,  and 
admired  the  priceless  collections  of  mar 
bles  and  cameos  and  bronzes.  It  was 
about  four  o'clock  when  we  were  con 
ducted  to  a  magnificent  apartment  for  a 
brief  rest,  as  we  were  to  return  to  London 
at  half  past  six.  As  Lady  Veratrum  left 
us,  she  remarked  casually,  "His  Grace 
will  join  us  at  tea." 

The  door  closed,  and  at  the  same  mo 
ment  I  fell  upon  the  brocaded  satin  state 
bed  and  tore  off  my  hat  and  gloves  like 
one  distraught. 


82   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

"Hilda,"  I  gasped,  "you  brought  me 
here,  and  you  must  rescue  me,  for  I  ab 
solutely  decline  to  drink  tea  with  a  duke." 

"  Nonsense,  Penelope,  don't  be  absurd," 
she  replied.  "  I  have  never  happened  to 
see  him  myself,  and  I  am  a  trifle  nervous, 
but  it  cannot  be  very  terrible,  I  should 
think." 

"  Not  to  you,  perhaps,  but  to  me  impos 
sible,"  I  said.  "  I  thought  he  was  in  Hom- 
burg,  or  I  would  never  have  entered  this 
place.  It  is  not  that  I  fear  nobility.  I 
could  meet  her  Majesty  the  Queen  at  the 
Court  of  St.  James  without  the  slightest 
flutter  of  embarrassment,  because  I  know 
I  could  trust  her  not  to  presume  on  my 
defenselessness  to  enter  into  conversation 
with  me.  But  this  duke,  whose  dukedom 
very  likely  dates  back  to  the  hour  of  the 
Norman  Conquest,  is  a  very  different  per 
son,  and  is  to  be  met  under  very  different 
circumstances.  He  may  ask  me  my  poli 
tics.  Of  course  I  can  tell  him  that  I  am 
a  Mugwump,  but  what  if  he  asks  me  why 
I  am  a  Mugwump?" 

"  He  will  not,"  Hilda  answered.  "  Eng 
lishmen  are  not  wholly  devoid  of  feeling !  " 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   83 

"And  how  shall  I  address  him?"  I 
went  on.  "  Does  one  call  him  '  your 
Grace,'  or  '  your  Royal  Highness  '  ?  Oh, 
for  a  thousandth  part  of  the  unblush 
ing  impertinence  of  that  countrywoman 
of  mine  who  called  your  future  king 
'  Tummy '  !  but  she  was  a  beauty,  and  I 
am  not  pretty  enough  to  be  anything  but 
discreetly  well-mannered.  Shall  you  sit 
in  his  presence,  or  stand  and  grovel  al 
ternately  ?  Does  one  have  to  courtesy  ? 
Very  well,  then,  make  any  excuses  you  like 
for  me,  Hilda  :  say  I  'm  eccentric,  say  I  'm 
deranged,  say  I  'm  a  Nihilist.  I  will  hide 
under  the  scullery  table,  fling  myself  in 
the  moat,  lock  myself  in  the  keep,  let  the 
portcullis  fall  on  me,  die  any  appropriate 
early  English  death,  —  anything  rather 
than  courtesy  in  a  tailor-made  gown  ;  I  can 
kneel  beautifully,  Hilda,  if  that  will  do  : 
you  remember  my  ancestors  were  brought 
up  on  kneeling,  and  yours  on  courtesying, 
and  it  makes  a  great  difference  in  the 
muscles." 

Hilda  smiled  benignantly  as  she  wound 
the  coil  of  russet  hair  round  her  shapely 
head.  "He  will  think  whatever  you  do 


84   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

charming,  and  whatever  you  say  brilliant," 
she  said  ;  "  that  is  the  advantage  in  being 
an  American  woman.'* 


Just  at  this  moment  Lady  Veratrum 
sent  a  haughty  maid  to  ask  us  if  we  would 
meet  her  under  the  trees  in  the  park  which 
surrounds  the  house.  I  hailed  this  as  a 
welcome  reprieve  to  the  dreaded  function 
of  tea  with  the  duke,  and  made  up  my 
mind,  while  descending  the  marble  stair 
case,  that  I  would  slip  away  and  lose  my 
self  accidentally  in  the  grounds,  appearing 
only  in  time  for  the  London  train.  This 
happy  mode  of  issue  from  my  difficulties 
lent  a  springiness  to  my  step,  as  we  fol 
lowed  a  waxwork  footman  over  the  velvet 
sward  to  a  nook  under  a  group  of  copper 
beeches.  But  there,  to  my  dismay,  stood 
a  charmingly  appointed  tea-table  glittering 
with  silver  and  Royal  Worcester,  with  sev 
eral  liveried  servants  bringing  cakes  and 
muffins  and  berries  to  Lady  Veratrum,  who 
sat  behind  the  steaming  urn.  I  started 
to  retreat,  when  there  appeared,  walking 


Pe'iie  lope's  English  Experiences   85 

towards  us,  a  simple  man,  with  nothing  in 
the  least  extraordinary  about  him. 

"  That  cannot  be  the  Duke  of  Cimici- 
fugas,"  thought  I,  "  a  man  in  a  corduroy 
jacket,  without  a  sign  of  a  suite  ;  probably 
it  is  a  Banished  Duke  come  from  the  For 
est  of  Arden  for  a  buttered  muffin." 

But  it  was  the  Duke  of  Cimicifugas,  and 
no  other.  Hilda  was  presented  first,  while 
I  tried  to  fire  my  courage  by  thinking  of 
the  Puritan  Fathers,  and  Plymouth  Rock, 
and  the  Boston  Tea-Party,  and  the  battle 
of  Bunker  Hill.  Then  my  turn  came.  I 
murmured  some  words  which  might  have 
been  anything,  and  courtesied  in  a  stiff- 
necked  self-respecting  sort  of  way.  Then 
we  talked,  —  at  least  the  duke  and  Lady 
Veratrum  talked.  Hilda  said  a  few  blame 
less  words,  such  as  befitted  an  untitled 
English  virgin  in  the  presence  of  the  no 
bility  j  while  I  maintained  the  probation 
ary  silence  required  by  Pythagoras  of  his 
first  year's  pupils.  My  idea  was  to  ob 
serve  this  first  duke  without  uttering  a 
word,  to  talk  with  the  second  (if  I  should 
ever  meet  a  second),  to  chat  with  the  third, 
and  to  secure  the  fourth  for  Francesca  to 
take  home  to  America  with  her. 


86   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

Of  course  I  know  that  dukes  are  very 
dear,  but  she  could  afford  any  reasonable 
sum,  if  she  found  one  whom  she  fancied  ; 
the  principal  obstacle  in  the  path  is  that 
tiresome  American  lawyer  with  whom  she 
considers  herself  in  love.  I  have  never 
gone  beyond  that  first  experience,  how 
ever,  for  dukes  in  England  are  as  rare  as 
snakes  in  Ireland.  I  can't  think  why  they 
allow  them  to  die  out  so,  —  the  dukes,  not 
the  snakes.  If  a  country  is  to  have  an 
aristocracy,  let  there  be  enough  of  it,  say 
I,  and  make  it  imposing  at  the  top,  where 
it  shows  most,  especially  since,  as  I  under 
stand  it,  all  that  Victoria  has  to  do  is  to 
say,  "  Let  there  be  dukes,"  and  there  are 
dukes. 

XI 

Francesca  wishes  to  get  some  old  hall 
marked  silver  for  her  home  tea  tray,  and 
she  is  absorbed  at  present  in  answering 
advertisements  of  people  who  have  second 
hand  pieces  for  sale,  and  who  offer  to  bring 
them  on  approval.  The  other  day,  when 
Willie  Beresford  and  I  came  in  from 
Westminster  Abbey  (where  we  had  been 


Penelope's  English  Experiences    87 

choosing  the  best  locations  for  our  me 
morial  tablets),  we  thought  Francesca  must 
be  giving  a  "  small  and  early ; "  but  it 
transpired  that  all  the  silver-sellers  had 
called  at  the  same  hour,  and  it  took  the 
united  strength  of  Dawson  and  Mr.  Beres- 
ford,  together  with  my  diplomacy,  to  rescue 
the  poor  child  from  their  clutches.  She 
came  out  alive,  but  her  safety  was  pur 
chased  at  the  cost  of  a  George  IV.  cream 
jug,  an  Elizabethan  sugar  bowl,  and  a 
Boadicea  tea  caddy,  which  were,  I  doubt 
not,  manufactured  in  Wardour  Street  to 
wards  the  close  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Salemina  came  in  just  then,  cold  and 
tired.  (Tower  and  National  Gallery  the 
same  day.  It 's  so  much  more  work  to 
go  to  the  Tower  nowadays  than  it  used  to 
be  !)  We  had  intended  to  go  to  Richmond 
on  a  penny  steamboat,  but  it  was  drizzling, 
so  we  had  a  cosy  fire  instead,  slipped  into 
our  tea-gowns,  and  ordered  tea  and  thin 
bread  and  butter,  a  basket  of  strawberries 
with  their  frills  on,  and  a  jug  of  Devon 
shire  cream.  Willie  Beresford  asked  if 
he  might  stay;  otherwise,  he  said,  he 
should  have  to  sit  at  a  cold  marble  table 


88   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

on  the  corner  of  Bond  Street  and  Picca 
dilly,  and  take  his  tea  in  bachelor  solitude. 

"Yes,"  I  said  severely,  "we  will  allow 
you  to  stay ;  though,  as  you  are  coming  to 
dinner,  I  should  think  you  would  have  to 
go  away  some  time,  if  only  in  order  that 
you  might  get  ready  to  come  back.  You  Ve 
been  here  since  breakfast  time." 

"Quite  so,"  he  answered  calmly,  "and 
my  only  error  in  judgment  was  that  I 
did  n't  take  an  earlier  breakfast,  in  order 
to  begin  my  day  here  sooner.  One  has 
to  snatch  a  moment  when  he  can,  nowa 
days  ;  for  these  rooms  are  so  infested  with 
British  swells  that  a  base-born  American 
stands  very  little  chance  !  " 

Now  I  should  like  to  know  if  Willie 
Beresford  is  in  love  with  Francesca.  What 
shall  I  do  —  that  is,  what  shall  we  do  — 
if  he  is,  when  she  is  in  love  with  somebody 
else?  To  be  sure,  she  may  want  one 
lover  for  foreign  and  another  for  domestic 
service.  He  is  too  old  for  her,  but  that 
is  always  the  way.  "  When  Alcides,  hav 
ing  gone  through  all  the  fatigues  of  life, 
took  a  bride  in  Olympus,  he  ought  to  have 
selected  Minerva,  but  he  chose  Hebe." 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   89 

I  wonder  why  so  many  people  call  him 
"  Willie  "  Beresford,  at  his  age.  Perhaps 
it  is  because  his  mother  sets  the  example ; 
but  from  her  lips  it  does  not  seem  amiss. 
I  suppose  when  she  looks  at  him  she  re 
calls  the  past,  and  is  ever  seeing  the  little 
child  in  the  strong  man,  mother  fashion. 
It  is  very  beautiful,  that  feeling ;  and  when 
a  girl  surprises  it  in  any  mother's  eyes 
it  makes  her  heart  beat  faster,  as  in  the 
presence  of  something  sacred,  which  she 
can  understand  only  because  she  is  a  wo 
man,  and  experience  is  foreshadowed  in 
intuition. 

The  Honorable  Arthur  had  sent  us  a 
dozen  London  dailies  and  weeklies,  and 
we  fell  into  an  idle  discussion  of  their 
contents  over  the  teacups.  I  had  found 
an  "  exchange  column "  which  was  as 
interesting  as  it  was  novel,  and  I  told 
Francesca  it  seemed  to  me  that  if  we 
managed  wisely  we  could  rid  ourselves  of 
all  our  useless  belongings,  and  gradually 
amass  a  collection  of  the  English  articles 
we  most  desired.  "  Here  is  an  oppor 
tunity,  for  instance,"  I  said,  and  I  read 
aloud,  — 


90  Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

"'S.  G.,  of  Kensington,  will  post  "Wo 
man  "  three  days  old  regularly  for  a  box  of 
cut  flowers.'  " 

"Rather  young,"  said  Mr.  Beresford, 
"  or  I  'd  answer  that  advertisement  my- 
self." 

I  wanted  to  tell  him  I  did  n't  suppose 
that  he  could  find  anything  too  young  for 
his  taste,  but  I  did  n't  dare. 

"  Salemina  adores  cats,"  I  went  on. 
"  How  is  this,  Sally,  dear  ?  — 

* '  A  handsome  orange  male  Persian  cat, 
also  a  tabby,  immense  coat,  brushes  and  frills, 
is  offered  in  exchange  for  an  electro-plated 
revolving  covered  dish  or  an  Allen's  Vapor 
Bath:  " 

"  I  should  like  the  cat,  but  alas !  I 
have  no  covered  dish,"  sighed  Salemina. 

"  Buy  one,"  suggested  Mr.  Beresford. 
"  Even  then  you  'd  be  getting  a  bargain. 
Do  you  understand  that  you  receive  the 
male  orange  cat  for  the  dish,  and  the 
frilled  tabby  for  the  bath,  or  do  you  get 
both  in  exchange  for  either  of  these  ar 
ticles  ?  Read  on,  Miss  Hamilton." 

"  Very  well,  here  is  one  for  Francesca  : 

(11A   harmonium    with    seven   stops    is 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   91 

offered  in  exchange  for  a  really  good  Plym 
outh  cockerel  hatched  in  May'  " 

"  I  should  want  to  know  when  the 
harmonium  was  hatched,"  said  Francesca 
prudently.  "  Now  you  cannot  usurp  the 
platform  entirely,  my  dear  Pen.  Listen 
to  an  English  marriage  notice  from  the 
1  Times.'  It  chances  to  be  the  longest  one 
to-day,  but  there  were  others  just  «s  re 
markable  in  yesterday's  issue. 

"'On  the  i ;th  instant,  at  Emmanuel 
Church  (Countess  of  Padelford's  connec 
tion),  Weston  -  super  -  Mare,  by  the  Rev. 
Canon  Vernon,  B.  D.,  Rector  of  St.  Ed 
mund  the  King  and  Martyr,  Suffolk  Street, 
uncle  of  the  bride,  assisted  by  the  Rev. 
Otho  Pelham,  M.  A.,  Vicar  of  All  Saints, 
Upper  Norwood,  Dr.  Philosophial  Konrad 
Rasch,  of  Koetzsenbroda,  Saxony,  to  Eve 
lyn  Whitaker  Rake,  widow  of  the  late 
Richard  Balaclava  Rake,  Barrister-at-law 
of  the  Inner  Temple  and  Bombay,  and 
third  surviving  daughter  of  George  Fred 
eric  Goldspink,  C.  B.,  of  Craig  House. 
Sydenham  Hill,  Commissioner  of  her  Ma 
jesty's  Customs,  and  formerly  of  the  Wa* 
Office.' " 


92    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

By  the  time  this  was  finished  we  were 
all  quite  exhausted,  but  we  revived  like 
magic  when  Salemina  read  us  her  contri 
bution  :  — 

"'A  NAME  ENSHRINED  IN  LITERATURE 

AND     RENOWNED     IN     COMMERCE,  Miss 

Willard,  Waddington,  Middlesex.  Deal 
with  her  whenever  you  possibly  can.  When 
you  want  to  purchase,  ask  her  for  anything 
under  the  canopy  of  heaven,  from  jewels, 
bijouterie,  and  curios  to  rare  books  and 
high-class  articles  of  utility.  When  you 
want  to  sell,  consign  only  to  her,  from 
choice  gems  to  mundane  objects.  All 
transactions  embodying  the  germs  of  small 
profits  are  welcome.  Don't  readily  forget 
this  or  her  name  and  address,  —  Clara 
(Miss)  Willard  (the  Lady  Trader),  Wad 
dington,  Middlesex.  Immaculate  prompti 
tude  and  scrupulous  liberality  observed: 
therefore,  on  these  credentials,  ye  must 
deal  with  her ;  it  is  the  duty  of  intellect 
to  be  reciprocal.'  " 

Just  here  Dawson  entered,  evidently  to 
lay  the  dinner-cloth,  but,  seeing  that  we 
had  a  visitor,  *he  took  the  tea-tray  and 
retired  discreetly. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   93 

"  It  is  five  and  thirty  minutes  past  six, 
Mr.  Beresford,"  I  said.  "  Do  you  think 
you  can  get  to  the  Metropole  and  array 
yourself  and  return  in  less  than  an  hour  ? 
Because,  even  if  you  can,  remember  that 
we  ladies  have  elaborate  toilets  in  pros 
pect,  —  toilets  intended  for  the  complete 
prostration  of  the  British  gentry.  Fran- 
cesca  has  a  yellow  gown  which  will 
drive  Bertie  Godolphin  to  madness.  Sa- 
lemina  has  laid  out  a  soft,  dovelike  gray 
and  steel  combination,  directed  towards 
the  Church  of  England ;  for  you  may  not 
know  that  Sally  has  a  vicar  in  her  train, 
Mr.  Beresford,  and  he  will  probably  speak 
to-night.  As  for  me  "  — 

Before  these  shocking  personalities  were 
finished  Salemina  and  Francesca  had  fled 
to  their  rooms,  and  Mr.  Beresford  took 
up  my  broken  sentence  and  said,  "As  for 
you,  Miss  Hamilton,  whatever  gown  you 
wear,  you  are  sure  to  make  one  man 
speak,  if  you  care  about  it ;  but  I  suppose 
you  would  not  listen  to  him  unless  he 
were  English ; "  and  with  that  shot  he 
departed. 


94  Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

I  really  think  I  shall  have  to  give  up 
the  Francesca  hypothesis,  and,  alas !  I  am 
not  quite  ready  to  adopt  any  other. 

We  discussed  international  marriages 
while  we  were  at  our  toilets,  Salemina 
and  I  prinking  by  the  light  of  one 
small  candle-end,  while  Francesca,  as  the 
youngest  and  prettiest,  illuminated  her 
charms  with  the  six  sitting-room  candles 
and  three  filched  from  the  little  table  in 
the  hall. 

I  gave  it  as  my  humble  opinion  that  for 
an  American  woman  an  English  husband 
was  at  least  an  experiment ;  Salemina  de 
clared  that  for  that  matter  a  husband  of 
any  nationality  was  an  experiment.  Fran 
cesca  ended  the  conversation  flippantly  by 
saying  that  in  her  judgment  no  husband 
at  all  was  a  much  more  hazardous  experi 
ment. 

XII 

How  well  I  remember  our  last  evening 
in  Dovermarle  Street! 

Our  large  sitting-room  has  three  long 
French  windows,  whose  outside  balconies 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences  95 

are  filled  with  potted  ferns  and  blossom 
ing  hydrangeas.  At  one  of  these  open 
windows  sat  Salemina,  little  Bertie  Go- 
dolphin,  Mrs.  Beresford,  the  Honorable 
Arthur,  and  Francesca  ;  at  another,  as  far 
off  as  possible,  sat  Willie  Beresford  and 
I.  Mrs.  Beresford  had  sanctioned  a 
post-prandial  cigar,  for  we  were  not  go 
ing  out  until  ten,  to  see,  for  the  second 
time,  an  act  of  John  Hare's  "Pair  of 
Spectacles." 

They  were  talking  and  laughing  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room  ;  Mr.  Beresford  and 
I  were  rather  quiet.  (Why  is  it  that  the 
people  with  whom  one  loves  to  be  silent 
are  also  the  very  ones  with  whom  one 
loves  to  talk  ?) 

The  room  was  dim  with  the  light  of  a 
single  lamp ;  the  rain  had  ceased ;  the 
roar  of  Piccadilly  came  to  us  softened  by 
distance.  A  belated  vender  of  lavender 
came  along  the  sidewalk,  and  as  he 
stopped  under  the  windows  the  pungent 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  was  wafted  up  to 
us  with  his  song. 


96   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 


Who  HI  buy  my  pretty  lav-ender?  Sweet  laven- 


der,  Who  '11  buy     my      pret-ty      lavender  ? 


Sweet      bloomin'     lav  -en  -  der  ? 

The  tune  comes  to  me  laden  with  odors. 
Is  it  not  strange  that  the  fragrances  of 
other  days  steal  in  upon  the  senses  to 
gether  with  the  sights  and  sounds  that 
gave  them  birth  ? 

Presently  a  horse  and  cart  drew  up  be 
fore  a  hotel,  a  little  farther  along,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  way.  By  the  light  of 
the  street  lamp  under  which  it  stopped  we 
could  see  that  it  held  a  piano  and  two  per 
sons  beside  the  driver.  The  man  was 
masked,  and  wore  a  soft  felt  hat  and  a 
velvet  coat.  He  seated  himself  at  the 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences   97 

piano  and  played  a  Chopin  waltz  with  de 
cided  sentiment  and  brilliancy ;  then, 
touching  the  keys  idly  for  a  moment  or 
two,  he  struck  a  few  chords  of  prelude 
and  turned  towards  the  woman  who  sat 
beside  him.  She  rose,  and,  laying  one 
hand  on  the  corner  of  the  instrument,  be 
gan  to  sing  one  of  the  season's  favorites,  — 
"  The  Song  that  touched  my  Heart."  She 
also  was  masked,  and  even  her  figure  was 
hidden  by  a  long  dark  cloak,  the  hood  of 
which  was  drawn  over  her  head  to  meet 
the  mask.  She  sang  so  beautifully,  with 
such  style  and  such  feeling,  it  seemed  in 
credible  to  hear  her  under  circumstances 
like  these.  She  followed  the  ballad  with 
Handel's  "Lascia  ch'  io  pianga,"  which 
rang  out  into  the  quiet  street  with  almost 
hopeless  pathos.  When  she  descended 
from  the  cart  to  undertake  the  more  pro 
saic  occupation  of  passing  the  hat  be 
neath  the  windows,  I  could  see  that  she 
limped  slightly,  and  that  the  hand  with 
which  she  pushed  back  the  heavy  dark  hair 
under  the  hood  was  beautifully  moulded. 
They  were  all  mystery,  that  couple ;  not 
to  be  confounded  for  an  instant  with  the 


98   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

common  herd  of  London  street  musicians. 
With  what  an  air  of  the  drawing-room  did 
he  of  the  velvet  coat  help  the  singer  into 
the  cart,  and  with  what  elegant  abandon 
and  ultra -dilettanteism  did  he  light  a 
cigarette,  reseat  himself  at  the  piano,  and 
weave  Scotch  ballads  into  a  charming  im 
promptu  !  I  confess  I  wrapped  my  shil 
ling  in  a  bit  of  paper  and  dropped  it  over 
the  balcony  with  the  wish  that  I  knew  the 
tragedy  behind  this  little  street  drama. 

XIII 

Willie  Beresford  was  in  a  royal  mood 
that  night.  You  know  the  mood,  in  which 
the  heart  is  so  full,  so  full,  it  overruns  the 
brim.  He  bought  the  entire  stock  of  the 
lavender  seller,  and  threw  a  shilling  to 
the  mysterious  singer  for  every  song  she 
sung.  He  even  offered  to  give  —  himself 
—  to  me  !  And  oh  !  I  would  have  taken 
him  as  gladly  as  ever  the  lavender  boy 
took  the  half  crown,  had  I  been  quite, 
quite  sure  of  myself !  A  woman  with  a 
vocation  ought  to  be  still  surer  than  other 
women,  that  it  is  the  very  jewel  of  love 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences  99 

she  is  setting  in  her  heart,  and  not  a 
sparkling  imitation.  I  gave  myself  wholly, 
or  believed  that  I  gave  myself  wholly,  to 
art,  or  what  I  believed  to  be  art.  And  is 
there  anything  more  sacred  than  art?  — 
Yes,  one  thing  ! 

It  happened  something  in  this  wise. 

The  singing  had  put  us  in  a  gentle 
mood,  and  after  a  long  peroration  from 
Mr.  Beresford,  which  I  do  not  care  to 
repeat,  I  said  very  softly  (blessing  the 
Honorable  Arthur's  vociferous  laughter 
at  one  of  Salemina's  American  jokes), 
"  But  I  thought  perhaps  it  was  Francesca. 
Are  you  quite  sure  ?  " 

He  intimated  that  if  there  were  any 
fact  in  his  repertory  of  which  he  was  par 
ticularly  and  absolutely  sure  it  was  this 
special  fact. 

"  It  is  too  sudden,"  I  objected.  "  Plants 
that  blossom  on  shipboard"  — 

"This  plant  was  rooted  in  American 
earth,  and  you  know  it,  Penelope.  If  it 
chanced  to  blossom  on  the  ship,  it  was 
because  it  had  already  budded  on  the 
shore ;  it  has  borne  transplanting  to  a 
foreign  soil,  and  it  grows  in  beauty  and 


IOO  Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

strength  every  day :  so  no  slurs,  please, 
concerning  ocean-steamer  hothouses." 

"  I  cannot  say  yes,  yet  I  dare  not  say 
no ;  it  is  too  soon.  I  must  go  off  into 
the  country  quite  by  myself  and  think  it 
over." 

"  But,"  urged  Mr.  Beresford,  "you  can 
not  think  over  a  matter  of  this  kind  by 
yourself.  You  '11  continually  be  needing 
to  refer  to  me  for  data,  don't  you  know, 
on  which  to  base  your  conclusions.  How 
can  you  tell  wjiether  you  're  in  love  with 
me  or  not  if —  (No,  I  am  not  shouting 
at  all ;  it  's  your  guilty  conscience ;  I  'm 
whispering.)  How  can  you  tell  whether 
you  're  in  love  with  me,  I  repeat,  unless 
you  keep  me  under  constant  examina 
tion  ?  " 

"That  seems  sensible,  though  I  dare 
say  it  is  full  of  sophistry;  but  I  have 
made  up  my  mind  to  go  into  the  country 
and  paint  while  Salemina  and  Francesca 
are  on  the  Continent.  One  cannot  think 
in  this  whirl.  A  winter  season  in  Wash 
ington  followed  by  a  summer  season  in 
London,  —  one  wants  a  breath  of  fresh 
air  before  beginning  another  winter  sea- 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    101 

son  somewhere  else.  Be  a  little  patient, 
please.  I  long  for  the  calm  that  steals 
over  me  when  I  am  absorbed  in  my 
brushes  and  my  oils." 

"  Work  is  all  very  well,"  said  Mr.  Beres- 
ford  with  determination,  "  but  I  know  your 
habits.  You  have  a  little  way  of  taking 
your  brush,  and  with  one  savage  sweep 
painting  out  a  figure  from  your  canvas. 
Now  if  I  am  on  the  canvas  of  your  heart, 
—  I  say  '  if '  tentatively  and  modestly,  as 
becomes  me,  —  I  Ve  no  intention  of  allow 
ing  you  to  paint  me  out ;  therefore  I  wish 
to  remain  in  the  foreground,  where  I  can 
say  '  Strike !  but  hear  me,'  if  I  discover 
any  hostile  tendencies  in  your  eye.  But 
I  am  thankful  for  small  favors  (the  'no* 
you  do  not  quite  dare  say,  for  instance), 
and  I  '11  talk  it  over  with  you  to-morrow, 
if  the  British  gentry  will  give  me  an  oppor 
tunity,  and  if  you  '11  deign  to  give  me  a 
moment  alone  in  any  other  place  than  the 
Royal  Academy." 

"I  was  alone  with  you  to-day  for  a 
whole  hour  at  least." 

"  Yes,  first  at  the  London  and  Westmin 
ster  Bank,  second  in  Trafalgar  Square, 


IO2    'Penelop'cs  English  Experiences 

and  third  on  the  top  of  a  'bus,  none  of 
them  congenial  spots  to  a  man  in  my 
humor.  Penelope,  you  are  not  dull,  but 
you  don't  seem  to  understand  that  I  am 
head  over  "  — 

"What  are  you  two  people  quarreling 
about  ?  "  cried  Salemina.  "  Come,  Penel 
ope,  get  your  wrap.  Mrs.  Beresford,  is 
n't  she  charming  in  her  new  Liberty  gown  ? 
If  that  New  York  wit  had  seen  her,  he 
could  n't  have  said,  'If  that  is  Liberty, 
give  me  Death ! '  Yes,  Francesca,  you 
must  wear  something  over  your  shoulders. 
Whistle  for  two  four-wheelers, 
please." 


Penelope 's  English  Experiences    103 

PART  SECOND  I    IN   THE   COUNTRY 

XIV 

WEST  BELVERN,  HOLLY  HOUSE, 
August,  189-. 

I  AM  here  alone.  Salemina  has  taken 
her  little  cloth  bag  and  her  notebook  and 
gone  to  inspect  the  educational  and  in 
dustrial  methods  of  Germany.  If  she 
can  discover  anything  that  they  are  not 
already  doing  better  in  Boston,  she  will 
take  it  back  with  her,  but  her  state  of 
mind  regarding  the  outcome  of  the  trip 
might  be  described  as  one  of  incredulity 
tinged  with  hope.  Francesca  has  accom 
panied  Salemina.  Not  that  the  inspec 
tion  of  systems  is  much  in  her  line,  but 
she  prefers  it  to  a  solitude  a  deux  with 
me  when  I  am  in  a  working  mood,  and 
she  comforts  herself  with  the  anticipation 
that  the  German  army  is  very  attractive. 
Willie  Beresford  has  gone  with  his  mother 
to  Aix-les-Bains,  like  the  dutiful  son  that 
he  is.  They  say  that  a  good  son  makes  a 
good  —  But  that  subject  is  dismissed  to 


1O4   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

the  background  for  the  present,  for  we  are 
in  a  state  of  armed  neutrality.  He  has 
agreed  to  wait  until  the  autumn  for  a  final 
answer,  and  I  have  promised  to  furnish 
one  by  that  time.  Meanwhile,  we  are  to 
continue  our  acquaintance  by  post,  which 
is  a  concession  I  would  never  have  allowed 
if  I  had  had  my  wits  about  me. 

After  paying  my  last  week's  bill  in 
Dovermarle  Street,  including  fees  to  sev 
eral  servants  whom  I  knew  by  sight,  and 
several  others  whose  acquaintance  I  made 
for  the  first  time  at  the  moment  of  de 
parture,  I  glanced  at  my  ebbing  letter  of 
credit  and  felt  a  season  of  economy  set 
ting  in  upon  me  with  unusual  severity ;  ac 
cordingly,  I  made  an  experiment  of  com 
ing  third  class  to  Belvern.  I  handed  the 
guard  a  shilling,  and  he  gave  me  a  seat 
riding  backwards  in  a  carriage  with  seven 
other  women,  all  very  frumpish,  but  highly 
respectable.  As  he  could  not  possibly  have 
done  any  worse  for  me,  I  take  it  that  he 
considered  the  shilling  a  graceful  tribute 
to  his  personal  charms,  but  as  having  no 
other  bearing  whatever.  The  seven  wo 
men  stared  at  me  throughout  the  journey. 


Penelope's  English  Experiences    105 

When  one  is  really  of  the  same  blood,  and 
when  one  does  not  open  one's  lips  or  wave 
the  stars  and  stripes  in  any  possible  man 
ner,  how  do  they  detect  the  American? 
These  women  looked  at  me  as  if  I  were  a 
highly  interesting  anthropoidal  ape.  It 
was  not  because  of  my  attire,  for  I  was 
carefully  dressed  down  to  a  third-class 
level ;  yet  when  I  removed  my  plain  Knox 
hat  and  leaned  my  head  back  against  my 
traveling-pillow,  an  electrical  shudder  of 
intense  excitement  ran  through  the  entire 
compartment.  When  I  stooped  to  tie  my 
shoe  another  current  was  set  in  motion, 
and  when  I  took  Charles  Reade's  "  White 
Lies  "  from  my  portmanteau  they  glanced 
at  one  another  as  if  to  say,  "  Would  that 
we  could  see  in  what  language  the  book 
is  written ! "  As  a  traveling  mystery  I 
reached  my  highest  point  at  Oxford,  for 
there  I  purchased  a  small  basket  of  plums 
from  a  boy  who  handed  them  in  at  the 
window  of  the  carriage.  After  eating  a 
few,  I  offered  the  rest  to  a  dowdy  elderly 
woman  on  my  left  who  was  munching  dry 
biscuits  from  a  paper  bag.  "  What  next  ?  " 
was  the  facial  expression  of  the  entire  com- 


IO6   Penelope  s  EnglisJi  Experiences 

pany.  My  neighbor  accepted  the  plums, 
but  hid  them  in  her  bag ;  plainly  thinking 
them  poisoned,  and  believing  me  to  be 
a  foreign  conspirator,  conspiring  against 
England  through  the  medium  of  her  in 
offensive  person.  In  the  course  of  the 
four  hours'  journey,  I  could  account  for 
the  strange  impression  I  was  making  only 
upon  the  theory  that  it  is  unusual  to  com 
port  one's  self  in  a  first-class  manner  in  a 
third-class  carriage.  All  my  companions 
chanced  to  be  third  class  by  birth  as  well 
as  by  ticket,  and  the  Englishwoman  who 
is  born  third  class  is  sometimes  deficient 
in  imagination. 

Upon  arriving  at  Great  Belvern  (which 
must  be  pronounced  "  Bevern  ")  I  took  a 
trap,  had  my  luggage  put  on  in  front,  and 
started  on  my  quest  for  lodgings  in  West 
Belvern,  five  miles  distant.  Several  ad 
dresses  had  been  given  me  by  Hilda  Mel- 
lifica,  who  has  spent  much  time  in  this 
region,  and  who  begged  me  to  use  her 
name.  I  told  the  driver  that  I  wished  to 
find  a  clean,  comfortable  lodging,  with  the 
view  mentioned  in  the  guide-book,  and 
with  a  purple  clematis  over  the  door,  if 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    107 

possible.  The  last  point  astounded  him  to 
such  a  degree  that  he  had,  I  think,  a  seri 
ous  idea  of  giving  me  into  custody.  (I 
should  not  be  so  eccentrically  spontaneous 
with  these  people,  if  they  did  not  feed  my 
sense  of  humor  by  their  amazement.) 

We  visited  Holly  House,  Osborne,  St 
James,  Victoria,  and  Albert  houses,  Tank 
Villa,  Poplar  Villa,  Rose,  Brake,  and  Thorn 
villas,  as  well  as  Hawthorn,  Gorse,  Fern, 
Shrubbery,  and  Providence  cottages.  All 
had  apartments,  but  many  were  taken, 
and  many  more  had  rooms  either  dark 
and  stuffy  or  without  view.  Holly  House 
was  my  first  stopping-place.  Why  will 
a  woman  voluntarily  call  her  place  by  a 
name  which  she  can  never  pronounce  ? 
It  is  my  landlady's  misfortune  that  she 
is  named  'Obbs,  and  mine  that  I  am 
called  'Amilton,  but  Mrs.  'Obbs  must 
have  rushed  with  eyes  wide  open  on  'Oily 
'Ouse.  I  found  sitting-room  and  bed 
room  at  Holly  House  for  two  guineas  a 
week ;  everything,  except  roof,  extra.  This 
was  more  than,  in  my  new  spirit  of  econ 
omy,  I  desired  to  pay,  but  after  exhaust 
ing  my  list  I  was  obliged  to  go  back  rather 


io8   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

than  sleep  in  the  highroad.  Mrs.  Hobbs 
offered  to  deduct  two  shillings  a  week  if  I 
stayed  until  Christmas,  and  said  she  should 
not  charge  me  a  penny  for  the  linen. 
Thanking  her  with  tears  in  my  eyes,  I  re 
quested  dinner.  There  was  no  meat  in 
the  house,  so  I  supped  frugally  off  two 
boiled  eggs,  a  stodgy  household  loaf,  and 
a  mug  of  ale,  after  which  I  climbed  the 
stairs,  and  retired  to  my  feather  bed  in  a 
rather  depressed  frame  of  mind. 


XV 

Visions  of  Salemina  and  Francesca 
driving  under  the  linden-trees  in  Berlin 
flitted  across  my  troubled  reveries,  with 
glimpses  of  Willie  Beresford  and  his 
mother  at  Aix-les-Bains.  At  this  distance 
and  in  the  dead  of  night,  my  sacrifice  in 
coming  here  seemed  fruitless.  Why  did 
I  not  allow  myself  to  drift  forever  on  that 
pleasant  sea  which  has  been  lapping  me 
in  sweet  and  indolent  content  these  many 
weeks  ?  Of  what  use  to  labor,  to  struggle, 
to  deny  myself,  for  an  art  to  which  I  can 
never  be  more  than  the  humblest  hand- 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    109 

maiden?  I  felt  like  crying  out,  as  did 
once  a  braver  woman's  soul  than  mine, 
"  Let  me  be  weak  !  I  have  been  seeming 
to  be  strong  so  many  years ! "  The  wo 
man  and  the  artist  in  me  have  always 
struggled  for  the  mastery.  So  far  the  ar 
tist  has  triumphed,  and  now  all  at  once  the 
woman  is  uppermost.  I  should  think  the 
two  ought  to  be  able  to  live  peaceably  in 
the  same  tenement;  they  do  manage  it 
in  some  cases ;  but  it  seems  a  law  of  my 
being  that  I  shall  either  be  all  one  or  all 
the  other. 

The  question  for  me  to  ask  myself  now 
is,  "  Am  I  in  love  with  loving  and  with 
being  loved,  or  am  I  in  love  with  Willie 
Beresford  ?  "  How  many  women  have 
confounded  the  two,  I  wonder  ? 

In  this  mood  I  fell  asleep,  and  on  a 
sudden  I  found  myself  in  a  dear  New 
England  garden.  The  pillow  slipped 
away,  and  my  cheek  pressed  a  fragrant 
mound  of  mignonette,  the  selfsame  one 
on  which  I  hid  my  tear-stained  face  and 
sobbed  my  heart  out  in  childish  grief  and 
longing  for  the  mother  who  would  never 
hold  me  again.  The  moon  came  up  over 


HO   Penelopes  English  Experiences 

the  Belvern  Hills  and  shone  on  my  half- 
closed  lids  ;  but  to  me  it  was  a  very  differ 
ent  moon,  the  far-away  moon  of  my  child 
hood,  with  a  river  rippling  beneath  its 
silver  rays.  And  the  wind  that  rustled 
among  the  poplar  branches  outside  my 
window  was,  in  my  dream,  stirring  the 
pink  petals  of  a  blossoming  apple-tree 
that  used  to  grow  beside  the  bank  of 
mignonette,  wafting  down  sweet  odors 
and  drinking  in  sweeter  ones.  And  pres 
ently  there  stole  in  upon  this  harmony  of 
enchanting  sounds  and  delicate  fragrances, 
in  which  childhood  and  womanhood,  plea 
sure  and  pain,  memory  and  anticipation, 
seemed  strangely  intermingled,  the  faint 
music  of  a  voice,  growing  clearer  and 
clearer  as  my  ear  became  familiar  with 
its  cadences.  And  what  the  dream  voice 
said  to  me  was  something  like  this  :  — 

"  If  thou  wouldst  have  happiness,  choose 
neither  fame,  which  doth  not  long  abide, 
nor  power,  which  stings  the  hand  that 
wields  it,  nor  gold,  which  glitters  but 
never  glorifies ;  but  choose  thou  Love, 
and  hold  it  forever  in  thy  heart  of  hearts ; 
for  Love  is  the  purest  and  the  mightiest 


Penelopes  English  Experiences     in 

force  in  the  universe,  and  once  it  is  thine 
all  other  gifts  shall  be  added  unto  thee. 
Love  that  is  passionate  yet  reverent,  ten 
der  yet  strong,  selfish  in  desiring  all  yet 
generous  in  giving  all ;  love  of  man  for 
woman  and  woman  for  man,  of  parent  for 
child  and  friend  for  friend,  —  when  this 
is  born  in  the  soul,  the  desert  blossoms 
as  the  rose.  Straightway  new  hopes  and 
wishes,  sweet  longings  and  pure  ambi 
tions,  spring  into  being,  like  green  shoots 
that  lift  their  tender  heads  in  sunny  places ; 
and  if  the  soil  be  kind,  they  grow  stronger 
and  more  beautiful  as  each  glad  day  laughs 
in  the  rosy  skies.  And  by  and  by  singing 
birds  come  and  build  their  nests  in  the 
branches ;  and  these  are  the  pleasures  of 
life.  And  the  birds  sing  not  often,  be 
cause  of  a  serpent  that  lurketh  in  the 
garden.  And  the  name  of  the  serpent  is 
Satiety.  He  maketh  the  heart  to  grow 
weary  of  what  it  once  danced  and  leaped 
to  think  upon,  and  the  ear  to  wax  dull 
to  the  melody  of  sounds  that  once  were 
sweet,  and  the  eye  blind  to  the  beauty  that 
once  led  enchantment  captive.  And  some 
times,  —  we  know  not  why,  but  we  shall 


112   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

know  hereafter,  for  life  is  not  completely 
happy  since  it  is  not  heaven,  nor  com 
pletely  unhappy  since  it  is  the  road  thith 
er, —  sometimes  the  light  of  the  sun  is 
withdrawn  for  a  moment,  and  that  which 
is  fairest  vanishes  from  the  place  that  was 
enriched  by  its  presence.  Yet  the  garden 
is  never  quite  deserted.  Modest  flowers, 
whose  charms  we  had  not  noted  when 
youth  was  bright  and  the  world  seemed 
ours,  now  lift  their  heads  in  sheltered 
places  and  whisper  peace.  The  morning 
song  of  the  birds  is  hushed,  for  the  dawn 
breaks  less  rosily  in  the  eastern  skies,  but 
at  twilight  they  still  come  and  nestle  in 
the  branches  that  were  sunned  in  the 
smile  of  love  and  watered  with  its  happy 
tears.  And  over  the  grave  of  each  buried 
hope  or  joy  stands  an  angel  with  strong 
comforting  hands  and  patient  smile;  and 
the  name  of  the  garden  is  Life,  and  the 
angel  is  Memory." 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    113 


XVI 

NORTH  BELVERN. 
At  Mrs.  Bobby's  cottage. 

I  have  changed  my  Belvern,  and  there 
are  so  many  others  left  to  choose  from 
that  I  might  live  in  a  different  Belvern 
each  week.  North,  South,  East,  and  West 
Belvern,  New  Belvern,  Old  Belvern,  Great 
Belvern,  Little  Belvern,  Belvern  Link,  Bel 
vern  Common,  and  Belvern  Wells.  They 
are  all  nestled  together  in  the  velvet 
hollows  or  on  the  wooded  crowns  of  the 
matchless  Belvern  Hills,  from  which  they 
look  down  upon  the  fairest  plains  that 
ever  blessed  the  eye.  One  can  see  from 
their  heights  a  score  of  market  towns  and 
villages,  three  splendid  cathedrals,  each 
in  a  different  county,  the  queenly  Severn 
winding  like  a  silver  thread  among  the 
trees,  with  soft-flowing  Avon  and  gentle 
Teme  watering  the  verdant  meadows 
through  which  they  pass.  All  these  hills 
and  dales  were  once  the  Royal  Forest, 
and  afterwards  the  Royal  Chase,  of  Bel 
vern,  covering  nearly  seven  thousand 


114   Penelopes  English  Experiences 

acres  in  three  counties ;  and  from  the 
lonely  height  of  the  Beacon  no  less  than 

"  Twelve  fair  counties  saw  the  blaze  " 

of  signals,  when  the  country  was  threat 
ened  by  a  Spanish  invasion.  As  for  me, 
I  mourn  the  decay  of  Romance  with  a 
great  R ;  we  have  it  still  among  us,  but 
we  spell  it  with  a  smaller  letter.  It  must 
be  so  much  more  interesting  to  be  threat 
ened  with  an  invasion,  especially  a  Span 
ish  invasion,  than  with  a  strike,  for  in 
stance.  The  clashing  of  swords  and  the 
flashing  of  spears  in  the  sunshine  are  so 
much  more  dazzling  and  inspiring  than 
a  line  of  policemen  with  clubs !  Yes,  I 
wish  it  were  the  age  of  chivalry  again, 
and  that  I  were  looking  down  from  these 
hills  into  the  Royal  Chase.  Of  course  I 
know  that  there  were  wicked  and  selfish 
tyrants  in  those  days,  before  the  free 
press,  the  jury  system,  and  the  folding- 
bed  had  wrought  their  beneficent  influ 
ences  upon  the  common  mind  and  heart. 
Of  course  they  would  have  sneered  at 
Browning  Societies  and  improved  tene 
ments,  and  of  course  they  did  not  care  a 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    115 

penny  whether  woman  had  the  ballot  or 
\iot,  so  long  as  man  had  the  bottle ;  but  I 
would  that  the  other  moderns  were  enjoy 
ing  the  modern  improvements,  and  that  I 
were  gazing  into  the  cool  depths  of  those 
deep  forests  where  there  were  once  good 
lairs  for  the  wolf  and  wild  boar.  I  should 
like  to  hear  the  baying  of  the  hounds  and 
the  mellow  horns  of  the  huntsman.  I 
should  like  to  see  the  royal  cavalcade 
emerging  from  one  of  those  wooded 
glades  :  monarch  and  baron  bold,  proud 
prelate,  abbot  and  prior,  belted  knight 
and  ladye  fair,  sweeping  in  gorgeous  array 
under  the  arcades  of  the  overshadowing 
trees,  silver  spurs  and  jeweled  trappings 
glittering  in  the  sunlight,  princely  forms 
bending  low  over  the  saddles  of  the  court 
beauties.  Why,  oh  why,  is  it  not  possible 
to  be  picturesque  and  pious  in  the  same 
epoch  ?  Why  may  not  chivalry  and  char 
ity  go  hand  in  hand  ?  It  amuses  me  to 
imagine  the  amazement  of  the  barons, 
bold  and  belted  knights,  could  they  be  re 
suscitated  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time  to 
gaze  upon  the  hydropathic  establishments 
which  dot  their  ancient  hunting-grounds. 


Il6   Penelopes  English  Experiences 

It  would  have  been  very  difficult  to  inter 
est  the  age  of  chivalry  in  hydropathy. 

Such  is  the  fascination  of  historic  as 
sociation  that  I  am  sure,  if  I  could  drag 
my  beloved  but  conscientious  Salemina 
from  some  foreign  soup  kitchen  which  she 
is  doubtless  inspecting,  I  could  make  even 
her  mourn  the  vanished  past  with  me  this 
morning,  on  the  Beacon's  towering  head. 
For  Salemina  wearies  of  the  age  of  charity 
sometimes,  as  every  one  does  who  is  trying 
to  make  it  a  beautiful  possibility. 

XVII 

The  manner  of  my  changing  from  West 
to  North  Belvern  was  this.  When  I  had 
been  two  days  at  Holly  House,  I  reflected 
that  my  sitting-room  faced  the  wrong  way 
for  the  view,  and  that  my  bedroom  was 
dark  and  not  large  enough  to  swing  a  cat 
in.  Not  that  there  was  the  remotest  ne 
cessity  of  my  swinging  cats  in  it,  but  the 
figure  of  speech  is  always  useful.  Neither 
did  I  care  to  occupy  myself  with  the  peren 
nial  inspection  and  purchase  of  raw  edibles, 
when  I  wished  to  live  in  an  ideal  world 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    117 

and  paint  a  great  picture.  Mrs.  Hobbs 
would  come  to  my  bedside  in  the  morning 
and  ask  me  if  I  would  like  to  buy  a  fowl. 
When  I  looked  upon  the  fowl,  limp  in 
death,  with  its  headless  neck  hanging  de 
jectedly  over  the  edge  of  the  plate,  its 
giblets  and  kidneys  lying  in  immodest 
confusion  on  the  outside  of  itself,  and  its 
liver  "  tucked  under  its  wing,  poor  thing," 
I  never  wanted  to  buy  it.  But  one  morn 
ing,  in  taking  my  walk,  I  chanced  upon 
an  idyllic  spot :  the  front  of  the  white 
washed  cottage  embowered  in  flowers, 
bird-cages  built  into  these  bowers,  a  little 
notice  saying  "  Canaries  for  Sale,"  and  an 
English  rose  of  a  baby  sitting  in  the  path 
stringing  hollyhock  buds.  There  was  no 
apartment  sign,  but  I  walked  in,  ostensibly 
to  buy  some  flowers.  I  met  Mrs.  Bobby, 
loved  her  at  first  sight,  the  passion  was 
reciprocal,  and  I  wheedled  her  into  giving 
me  her  own  sitting-room  and  the  bedroom 
above  it.  It  only  remained  now  for  me 
to  break  my  projected  change  of  residence 
to  my  present  landlady,  and  this  I  dis 
tinctly  dreaded.  Of  course  Mrs.  Hobbs 
said,  when  I  timidly  mentioned  the  sub- 


1 1 8   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

ject,  that  she  wished  she  had  known  I  was 
leaving  an  hour  before,  for  she  had  just 
refused  a  lady  and  her  husband,  most 
desirable  persons,  who  looked  as  if  they 
would  be  permanent.  Can  it  be  that 
lodgers  radiate  the  permanent  or  transitory 
quality,  quite  unknown  to  themselves  ? 

I  was  very  much  embarrassed,  as  she 
threatened  to  become  tearful ;  and  as  I 
was  determined  never  to  give  up  Mrs. 
Bobby,  I  said  desperately,  "  I  must  leave 
you,  Mrs.  Hobbs,  I  must  indeed  ;  but  as 
you  seem  to  feel  so  badly  about  it,  I  '11  go 
out  and  find  you  another  lodger  in  my 
place." 

The  fact  is,  I  had  seen,  not  long  before, 
a  lady  going  in  and  out  of  houses,  as  I 
had  done  on  the  night  of  my  arrival,  and 
it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  pursue  her, 
and  persuade  her  to  take  my  place  in 
Holly  House  and  buy  the  headless  fowl. 
I  walked  for  nearly  an  hour  before  I  was 
rewarded  with  a  glimpse  of  my  victim's 
gray  dress  whisking  round  the  corner  of 
Pump  Street.  I  approached,  and,  with  a 
smile  that  was  intended  to  be  a  justifica 
tion  in  itself,  I  explained  my  somewhat 


"I   loved  her  at  first  sight 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    119 

unusual  mission.  She  was  rather  unre- 
ceptive  at  first ;  she  thought  evidently  that 
I  was  to  have  a  percentage  on  her,  if  I 
succeeded  in  capturing  her  alive  and  de 
livering  her  to  Mrs.  Hobbs  ;  but  she  was 
very  weary  and  discouraged,  and  finally 
fell  in  with  my  plans.  She  accompanied 
me  home,  was  introduced  to  Mrs.  Hobbs, 
and  engaged  my  rooms  from  the  following 
day.  As  she  had  a  sister,  she  promised 
to  be  a  more  lucrative  incumbent  than  I ; 
she  enjoyed  ordering  food  in  a  raw  state, 
did  not  care  for  views,  and  thought  purple 
clematis  vines  only  a  shelter  for  insects : 
so  every  one  was  satisfied,  and  I  most  of 
all  when  I  wrestled  with  Mrs.  Hobbs's 
itemized  bill  for  two  nights  and  one  day. 
Her  weekly  account  must  be  rolled  on  a 
cylinder,  I  should  think,  like  the  list  of 
Don  Juan's  amours,  for  the  bill  of  my 
brief  residence  beneath  her  roof  was  quite 
three  feet  in  length,  each  of  the  following 
items  being  set  down  every  twenty-four 
hours :  — 

Apartments. 

Ale. 

Bath. 

Kidney  beans. 


I2O   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

Candles. 

Vegetable  marrow. 

Tea. 

Eggs. 

Butter. 

Bread. 

Cut  off  joint 

Plums. 

Potatoes. 

Chops. 

Kipper. 

Rasher. 

Salt. 

Pepper. 

Vinegar. 

Sugar. 

Washing  towels. 

Lights. 

Kitchen  fire. 

Sitting-room  fire. 

Attendance. 

Boots. 

The  total  was  seventeen  shillings  and 
sixpence,  and  as  Mrs.  Hobbs  wrote  upon 
it,  in  her  neat  English  hand,  "  Received 
payment,  with  respectful  thanks,"  and  ap 
plied  the  red  blotting  paper,  she  remarked 
casually  that  service  was  not  included  in 
"  attendance,"  but  that  she  would  leave 
the  amount  to  me. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    121 

XVIII 

Mrs.  Bobby  and  I  were  born  for  each 
other,  though  we  have  been  a  long  time 
in  coming  together.  She  is  the  pink  of 
neatness  and  cheeriness,  and  she  has  a 
broad,  comfortable  bosom  on  which  one 
might  lay  a  motherless  head,  if  one  felt 
lonely  in  a  stranger  land.  No  raw  fowls 
visit  my  bedside  here ;  food  comes  as  I 
wish  it  to  come  when  I  am  painting,  like 
manna  from  heaven.  Mrs.  Bobby  brings 
me  three  times  a  day  something  to  eat, 
and  though  it  is  always  whatever  she  likes, 
I  always  agree  in  her  choice,  and  send  the 
blue  dishes  away  empty.  She  asked  me 
this  morning  if  I  enjoyed  my  "  h'egg," 
and  remarked  that  she  had  only  one  fowl, 
but  it  laid  an  egg  for  me  every  morning, 
so  I  might  know  it  was  "  fresh  as  fresh." 
It  is  certainly  convenient :  the  fowl  lays 
the  egg  from  seven  to  seven  thirty,  I  eat 
it  from  eight  to  eight  thirty  ;  no  haste,  no 
waste.  Never  before  have  I  seen  such 
heavenly  harmony  between  supply  and 
demand.  Never  before  have  I  been  in 
such  visible  and  unbroken  connection  with 


122   Penelope's  English  Experiences 

the  source  of  my  food.  If  I  should  ever 
desire  two  eggs,  or  if  the  fowl  should  turn 
sulky  or  indolent,  I  suppose  Mrs.  Bobby 
would  have  to  go  half  a  mile  to  the  nearest 
shop,  but  as  yet  everything  has  worked  to 
a  charm.  The  cow  is  milked  into  my 
pitcher  in  the  morning,  and  the  fowl  lays 
her  egg  almost  literally  in  my  egg-cup. 
One  of  the  little  Bobbies  pulls  a  kidney 
bean  or  a  tomato  or  digs  a  potato  for  my 
dinner,  about  half  an  hour  before  it  is 
served.  There  is  a  sheep  in  the  garden, 
but  I  hardly  think  it  supplies  the  chops ; 
those,  at  least,  are  not  raised  on  the 
premises. 

One  grievance  I  did  have  at  first,  but 
Mrs.  Bobby  removed  the  thorn  from  the 
princess'  pillow  as  soon  as  it  was  men 
tioned.  Our  next-door  neighbor  had  a 
kennel  of  homesick,  discontented,  and 
sleepless  puppies  of  various  breeds,  that 
were  in  the  habit  of  howling  all  night 
until  Mrs.  Bobby  expostulated  with  Mrs. 
Gooch  in  my  behalf.  She  told  me  that 
she  found  Mrs.  Gooch  very  snorty,  very 
snorty  indeed,  because  the  pups  were  an 
'obby  of  her  'usbant's ;  whereupon  Mrs, 


Penelope's  English  Experiences    123 

Bobby  responded  that  if  Mrs.  Gooch's 
'usbant  'ad  to  'ave  an  'obby,  it  was  a  shame 
it  'ad  to  be  'owling  pups  to  keep  h'innocent 
people  awake  o'  nights.  The  puppies  were 
removed,  but  I  almost  felt  guilty  at  finding 
fault  with  a  dog  in  this  country.  It  is  a 
matter  of  constant  surprise  to  me,  and  it 
always  gives  me  a  warm  glow  in  the  region 
of  the  heart,  to  see  the  supremacy  of 
the  dog  in  England.  He  is  respected, 
admired,  loved,  and  considered,  as  he 
deserves  to  be  everywhere,  but  as  he 
frequently  is  not.  He  is  admitted  on  all 
excursions ;  he  is  taken  into  the  country 
for  his  health;  he  is  a  factor  in  all  the 
master's  plans  ;  in  short,  the  English  dog 
is  a  member  of  the  family,  in  good  and 
regular  standing. 

My  interior  surroundings  are  all  charm 
ing.  My  little  sitting-room,  out  of  which 
I  turned  Mrs.  Bobby,  is  bright  with  potted 
ferns  and  flowering  plants,  and  on  its 
walls,  besides  the  photographs  of  a  large 
and  unusually  plain  family,  I  have  two 
works  of  art  which  inspire  me  anew  every 
time  I  gaze  at  them  :  the  first,  a  Scriptural 
subject,  treated  by  an  enthusiastic  but  in- 


124   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

experienced  hand,  "  Susanne  dans  le  Bain, 
surprise  par  les  Deux  Vieillards  ; "  the  sec 
ond,  "  The  White  Witch  of  Worcester  on 
her  Way  to  the  Stake  at  High  Cross." 
The  unfortunate  lady  in  the  latter  picture 
is  attired  in  a  white  lawn  wrapper  with 
angel  sleeves,  and  is  followed  by  an  abbess 
with  prayer-book,  and  eight  surpliced 
choir-boys  with  candles.  I  have  been  long 
enough  in  England  to  understand  the 
significance  of  the  candles.  Doubtless 
the  White  Witch  had  paid  four  shillings  a 
week  for  each  of  them  in  her  prison  lodg 
ing,  and  she  naturally  wished  to  burn  them 
to  the  end. 

One  has  no  need,  though,  of  pictures 
on  the  walls  here,  for  the  universe  seems 
unrolled  at  one's  very  feet.  As  I  look 
out  of  my  window  the  last  thing  before 
I  go  to  sleep,  I  see  the  lights  of  Great 
Belvern,  the  dim  shadows  of  the  distant 
cathedral  towers,  the  quaint  priory  seven 
centuries  old,  and  just  the  outline  of  Holly 
Bush  Hill,  a  sacred  seat  of  magic  science 
where  the  Druids  investigated  the  secrets 
of  the  stars,  and  sought,  by  auspices  and 
sacrifices,  to  forecast  the  future  and  to 
penetrate  the  designs  of  the  gods. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    125 

It  makes  me  feel  very  new,  very  un 
developed,  to  look  out  of  that  window. 
If  I  were  an  Englishwoman,  say  the  fifty- 
fifth  duchess  of  something,  I  could  easily 
glow  with  pride  to  think  that  I  was  part 
and  parcel  of  such  antiquity;  the  fortu 
nate  heiress  not  only  of  land  and  titles, 
but  of  historic  associations.  But  as  I  am 
an  American  with  a  very  recent  back 
ground,  I  blow  out  my  candle  with  the 
feeling  that  it  is  rather  grand  to  be  mak 
ing  history  for  somebody  else  to  inherit. 

XIX 

I  am  almost  too  comfortable  with  Mrs. 
Bobby.  In  fact,  I  wished  to  be  just  a  little 
miserable  in  Belvern,  so  that  I  could  paint 
with  a  frenzy.  Sometimes,  when  I  have 
been  in  a  state  of  almost  despairing  loneli 
ness  and  gloom,  the  colors  have  glowed  on 
my  canvas  and  the  lines  have  shaped  them 
selves  under  my  hand  independent  of  my 
own  volition.  Now,  tucked  away  in  a 
corner  of  my  consciousness  is  the  know 
ledge  that  I  need  never  be  lonely  again 
unless  I  choose.  When  I  yield  myself 


12(5   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

fully  to  the  sweet  enchantment  of  this 
thought,  I  feel  myself  in  the  mood  to 
paint  sunshine,  flowers,  and  happy  chil 
dren's  faces ;  yet  I  am  sadly  lacking  in 
concentration,  all  the  same.  The  fact  is, 
I  am  no  artist  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word.  My  hope  flies  ever  in  front  of  my 
best  success,  and  that  momentary  success 
does  not  deceive  me  in  the  very  least.  I 
know  exactly  how  much,  or  rather  how 
little,  I  am  worth ;  that  I  lack  the  im 
agination,  the  industry,  the  training,  the 
ambition,  to  achieve  any  lasting  results. 
I  have  the  artistic  temperament  in  so  far 
that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  work  merely 
for  money  or  popularity,  or  indeed  for  any 
thing  less  than  the  desire  to  express  the 
best  that  is  in  me  without  fear  or  favor. 
It  would  never  occur  to  me  to  trade  on 
present  approval  and  dash  off  unworthy 
stuff  while  I  have  command  of  the  mar 
ket.  I  am  quite  above  all  that,  but  I  am 
distinctly  below  that  other  mental  and 
spiritual  level  where  art  is  enough  ;  where 
pleasure  does  not  signify  ;  where  one  shuts 
one's  self  up  and  produces  from  sheer  ne 
cessity  ;  where  one  is  compelled  by  relent- 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    127 

less  law  ;  where  sacrifice  does  not  count ; 
where  ideas  throng  the  brain  and  plead 
for  release  in  expression ;  where  effort  is 
joy,  and  the  prospect  of  doing  something 
enduring  lures  the  soul  on  to  new  and 
ever  new  endeavor :  so  I  shall  never  be 
rich  or  famous. 

What  shall  I  paint  to-day  ?  Shall  it  be 
the  bit  of  garden  underneath  my  window, 
with  the  tangle  of  pinks  and  roses,  and 
the  cabbages  growing  appetizingly  beside 
the  sweet-williams,  the  woodbine  climbing 
over  the  brown  stone  wall,  the  wicket  gate, 
and  the  cherry-tree  with  its  fruit  hanging 
red  against  the  whitewashed  cottage? 
Ah,  if  I  could  only  paint  it  so  truly  that 
you  could  hear  the  drowsy  hum  of  the 
bees  among  the  thyme,  and  smell  the 
scented  hay-meadows  in  the  distance,  and 
feel  that  it  is  midsummer  in  England ! 
That  would  indeed  be  truth,  and  that 
would  be  art.  Shall  I  paint  the  Bobby 
baby  as  he  stoops  to  pick  the  cowslips 
and  the  flax,  his  head  as  yellow  and  his 
eyes  as  blue  as  the  flowers  themselves; 
or  that  bank  opposite  the  gate,  with  its 
gorse  bushes  in  golden  bloom,  its  moun- 


128   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

tain  ash  hung  with  scarlet  berries,  its  tufts 
of  harebells  blossoming  in  the  crevices  of 
rock,  and  the  quaint  low  clock  tower  at 
the  foot?  Can  I  not  paint  all  these  in 
the  full  glow  of  summer-time,  and  paint 
them  all  the  better  because  it  is  summer 
time  in  my  secret  heart  whenever  I  open 
the  door  a  bit  and  admit  its  life-giving 
warmth  and  beauty  ?  I  think  I  can,  if  I 
can  only  quit  dreaming. 

I  wonder  how  the  great  artists  worked, 
and  under  what  circumstances  they  threw 
aside  the  implements  of  their  craft,  im 
patient  of  all  but  the  throb  of  life  itself  ? 
Could  Raphael  paint  Madonnas  the  week 
of  his  betrothal  ?  Did  Thackeray  write  a 
chapter  the  day  his  daughter  was  born  ? 
Did  Plato  philosophize  freely  when  he  was 
in  love  ?  Were  there  interruptions  in  the 
world's  great  revolutions,  histories,  dramas, 
reforms,  poems,  and  marbles  when  their 
creators  fell  for  a  brief  moment  under  the 
spell  of  the  little  blind  tyrant  who  makes 
slaves  of  us  all  ?  It  must  have  been  so. 
Your  chronometer  heart,  on  whose  pulsa 
tions  you  can  reckon  as  on  the  precession 
of  the  equinoxes,  never  gave  anything  to 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    129 

the  world  unless  it  were  a  system  of  diet, 
or  something  quite  uncolored  and  unglori- 
fied  by  the  imagination. 


XX 

There  are  many  donkeys  owned  in  these 
nooks  among  the  hills,  and  some  of  the 
thriftier  families  keep  donkey-chairs  (or 
"  cheers,"  as  they  call  them)  to  let  to  the 
casual  summer  visitor.  This  vehicle  is  a 
regular  Bath  chair,  into  which  the  donkey 
is  harnessed.  Some  of  them  have  a  tiny 
driver's  seat,  where  a  small  lad  sits  beat 
ing  and  berating  the  donkey  for  the  incum 
bent,  generally  a  decrepit  dowager  from 
London.  Other  chairs  are  minus  this 
absurd  coachman's  perch,  and  in  this  sort 
I  take  my  daily  drives.  I  hire  the  minia 
ture  chariot  from  an  old  woman  who 
dwells  at  the  top  of  Gorse  Hill,  and  who 
charges  one  and  fourpence  the  hour.  (A 
little  more  when  she  fetches  the  donkey 
to  the  door,  or  when  the  weather  is  wet, 
or  the  day  is  very  warm,  or  there  is  an 
unusual  breeze  blowing,  or  I  wish  to  go 
round  the  hills ;  but  under  ordinary  cir- 


130   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

cumstances,  which  may  at  any  time  occur, 
but  which  never  do,  one  and  four  the 
hour.  It  is  only  a  shilling,  if  you  have  the 
boy  to  drive  you;  but  of  course,  if  you 
drive  yourself,  you  throw  the  boy  out  of 
employment,  and  have  to  pay  extra.) 

It  was  in  this  fashion  and  on  these  elas 
tic  terms  that  I  first  met  you,  Jane,  and 
this  chapter  shall  be  sacred  to  you  !  Jane 
the  long-eared,  Jane  the  iron-jawed,  Jane 
the  stubborn,  Jane  donkier  than  other 
donkeys,  —  in  a  word,  mulier !  It  may  be 
that  Jane  has  made  her  bow  to  the  public 
before  this.  If  she  has  ever  come  into 
close  relation  with  man  or  woman  pos 
sessed  of  the  instinct  of  self-expression, 
then  this  is  certainly  not  her  first  appear 
ance  in  print,  for  no  human  being  could 
know  Jane  and  fail  to  mention  her. 

Pause,  Jane,  —  this  you  will  do  gladly, 
I  am  sure,  since  pausing  is  the  one  accom 
plishment  to  which  you  lend  yourself  with 
special  energy,  —  pause,  Jane,  while  I 
sing  a  canticle  to  your  character.  Jane  is 
a  tiny  —  person,  I  was  about  to  say,  for 
she  has  so  strong  an  individuality  that  I 
can  scarcely  think  of  her  as  less  than  hu- 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    131 

man  —  Jane  is  a  tiny,  solemn '  creature, 
looking  all  docility  and  decorum,  with 
long  hair  of  a  subdued  tan  color,  very 
much  worn  off  in  patches,  I  fear,  by  the 
offending  toe  of  man. 

I  am  a  member  of  the  Society  for  the 
Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  and  I 
hope  that  I  am  as  tender-hearted  as  most 
women ;  nevertheless,  I  can  understand 
how  a  man  of  weak  principle  and  violent 
temper,  or  a  man  possessed  of  a  desire  to 
get  to  a  particular  spot  not  favored  by 
Jane,  or  by  a  wish  to  reach  any  spot  by  a 
certain  hour,  —  I  can  understand  how  such 
a  man,  carried  away  by  helpless  wrath, 
might  possibly  ruffle  Jane's  sad-colored 
hair  with  the  toe  of  his  boot. 

Jane  is  small,  yet  mighty.  She  is  mul« 
turn  in  parvo  ;  she  is  the  rock  of  Gibraltar 
in  animate  form ;  she  is  cosmic  obstinacy 
on  four  legs.  When  following  out  the  de 
vices  and  desires  of  her  own  heart,  or  re- 
sisting  the  devices  and  desires  of  yours, 
she  can  put  a  pressure  of  five  hundred 
tons  on  the  bit.  She  is  further  fortified 
by  the  possession  of  legs  which  have  iron 
rods  concealed  in  them,  these  iron  rods 


132   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

terminating  in  stout  grip-hooks,  with  which 
she  takes  hold  on  mother  earth  with  an 
expression  that  seems  to  say,  — 

"This  rock  shall  fly 
From  its  firm  base 
As  soon  as  I." 

When  I  start  out  in  the  afternoon,  Mrs. 
Bobby  frequently  asks  me  where  I  am 
going.  I  always  answer  that  I  have  not 
made  up  my  mind,  though  what  I  really 
mean  to  say  is  that  Jane  has  not  made  up 
her  mind.  She  never  makes  up  her  mind 
until  after  I  have  made  up  mine,  lest  by 
some  unhappy  accident  she  might  choose 
the  very  excursion  that  I  desire  myself. 


XXI 

For  example,  I  wish  to  visit  St.  Bridget's 
Well,  concerning  which  there  are  some 
quaint  old  verses  in  a  village  history  :  — 

"  Out  of  thy  famous  hille, 
There  daylie  springyeth, 
A  water  passynge  stille, 
That  alwayes  bringyeth 
Crete  comfort  to  all  them 
That  are  diseased  men, 
And  makes  them  Tell  again 
To  prayse  the  Lord. 


Penelope's  English  Experiences    133 

"  Hast  thou  a  wound  to  heale, 
The  wyche  doth  greve  thee ; 
Come  thenn  unto  this  wellej 
It  will  relieve  thee ; 
Nolie  me  tangeries, 
And  other  maladies, 
Have  there  theyr  remedies, 
Prays'd  be  the  Lord." 

St.  Bridget's  Well  is  a  beautiful  spot, 
and  my  desire  to  see  it  is  a  perfectly  laud 
able  one.  In  strict  justice,  it  is  really  no 
concern  of  Jane  whether  my  wishes  are 
laudable  or  not ;  but  it  only  makes  the 
case  more  flagrant  when  she  interferes 
with  the  reasonable  plans  of  a  reasonable 
being.  Never  since  the  day  we  first  met 
have  I  harbored  a  thought  that  I  wished 
to  conceal  from  Jane  (would  that  she 
could  say  as  much !) ;  nevertheless  she 
treats  me  as  if  I  were  a  monster  of  ca 
price.  As  I  said  before,  I  wish  to  visit  St. 
Bridget's  Well,  but  Jane  absolutely  refuses 
to  take  me  there.  After  we  pass  Belvern 
churchyard  we  approach  two  roads :  the 
one  to  the  right  leads  to  the  Holy  Well  \ 
the  one  to  the  Jeft  leads  to  Shady  Dell 
Farm,  where  Jane  lived  when  she  was  a 
girl.  At  the  critical  moment  I  pull  the 


134  Penelope's  English  Experiences 

right  rein  with  all  my  force.  In  vain  :  Jane 
is  always  overcome  by  sentiment  when  she 
sees  that  left-hand  road.  She  bears  to 
the  left  like  a  whirlwind,  and  nothing  can 
stop  her  mad  career  until  she  is  again 
amid  the  scenes  so  dear  to  her  recollec 
tion,  the  beloved  pastures  where  the 
mother  still  lives  at  whose  feet  she  brayed 
in  early  youth ! 

Now  this  is  all  very  pretty  and  touch 
ing.  Her  action  has,  in  truth,  its  springs 
in  a  most  commendable  sentiment  that  I 
should  be  the  last  to  underrate.  Shady 
Dell  Farm  is  interesting,  too,  for  once,  if 
one  can  swallow  one's  wrath  and  dudgeon 
at  being  taken  there  against  one's  will; 
and  one  feels  that  Jane's  parents  and 
Jane's  early  surroundings  must  be  worth 
a  single  visit,  if  they  could  produce  a  don 
key  of  such  unusual  capacity.  Still,  she 
must  know,  if  she  knows  anything,  that  a 
person  does  not  come  from  America  and 
pay  one  and  fourpence  the  hour  (or  there 
abouts)  merely  in  order  to  visit  the  home 
of  her  girlhood,  which  is  neither  mentioned 
in  Baedeker  nor  set  down  in  the  local 
guide-books  as  a  feature  of  interest. 


Penelope s  English  Experiences    135 

Whether,  in  addition  to  her  affection 
for  Shady  Dell  Farm,  she  has  an  objec 
tion  to  St.  Bridget's  Well,  and  thus  is 
strengthened  by  a  double  motive,  I  do 
not  know.  She  may  consider  it  a  relic  of 
popish  superstition ;  she  may  be  a  Pro 
testant  donkey;  she  is  a  Dissenter,— 
there  's  no  doubt  about  that. 

But,  you  ask,  have  you  tried  various 
methods  of  bringing  her  to  terms  and 
gaining  your  own  desires  ?  Certainly.  I 
have  coaxed,  beaten,  prodded,  prayed.  I 
have  tried  leading  her  past  the  Shady 
Dell  turn ;  she  walks  all  over  my  feet,  and 
then  starts  for  home,  I  running  behind 
until  I  can  catch  up  with  her.  I  have 
offered  her  one  and  tenpence  the  hour; 
she  remained  firm.  One  morning  I  had  a 
happy  inspiration ;  I  determined  on  con 
quering  Jane  by  a  subterfuge.  I  said  to 
myself :  "  I  am  going  to  start  for  St. 
Bridget's  Well,  as  usual;  several  yards 
before  we  reach  the  two  roads,  I  shall  be 
gin  pulling,  not  the  right,  but  the  left  rein. 
Jane  will  lift  her  ears  suddenly  and  say 
to  herself :  "'  What !  has  this  girl  fallen  in 
iove  with  mv  birthplace  at  last,  and  does 


136   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

she  now  prefer  it  to  St.  Bridget's  Well? 
Then  she  shall  not  have  it ! '  Whereupon 
Jane  will  start  madly  down  the  right-hand 
road  for  the  first  time,  I  pulling  steadily 
at  the  left  rein  to  keep  up  appearances, 
and  I  shall  at  last  realize  my  wishes." 

This  was  my  inspiration.  Would  you 
believe  that  it  failed  utterly  ?  It  should 
have  succeeded  and  would  with  an  ordi 
nary  donkey,  but  Jane  saw  through  it. 
She  obeyed  my  pull  on  the  left  rein,  and 
went  to  Shady  Dell  Farm  as  usual. 

Another  of  Jane's  eccentricities  is  a 
violent  aversion  to  perambulators.  As 
Belvern  is  a  fine,  healthy,  growing  country, 
with  steadily  increasing  population,  the 
roads  are  naturally  alive  with  perambu 
lators  ;  or  at  least  alive  with  the  babies 
inside  the  perambulators.  These  are  the 
more  alarming  to  the  timid  eye  in  that 
many  of  them  are  double-barreled,  so  to 
speak,  and  are  loaded  to  the  muzzle  with 
babies  ;  for  not  only  do  Belvern  babies 
frequently  appear  as  twins,  but  there  are 
often  two  youngsters  of  a  perambulator 
age  in  the  same  family  at  the  same  time. 
To  weave  that  donkey  and  that  Bath 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    137 

"  cheer  "  through  the  narrow  streets  of  the 
various  Belverns  without  putting  to  death 
any  babies,  and  without  engendering  the 
outspoken  condemnation  of  the  screaming 
mothers  and  nursery  maids,  is  a  task  for 
a  Jehu.  Of  course  Jane  makes  it  more 
difficult  by  lunging  into  one  perambulator 
in  avoiding  another,  but  she  prefers  even 
that  risk  to  the  degradation  of  treading 
the  path  I  wish  her  to  tread. 

I  often  wish  that  for  one  brief  moment 
I  might  remove  the  lid  of  Jane's  brain  and 
examine  her  mental  processes.  She  would 
not  exasperate  me  so  deeply  if  I  could  be 
certain  of  her  springs  of  action.  Is  she 
old,  is  she  rheumatic,  is  she  lazy,  is  she 
hungry?  Sometimes  I  think  she  means 
well,  and  is  only  ignorant  and  dull ;  but 
this  hypothesis  grows  less  and  less  tenable 
as  I  know  her  better.  Sometimes  I  con 
clude  that  she  does  not  understand  me; 
the  difference  in  nationality  may  trouble 
her.  If  an  Englishman  cannot  understand 
an  American  woman  all  at  once,  why 
should  an  English  donkey?  Perhaps  it 
takes  an  American  donkey  to  comprehend 
an  American  woman.  Yet  I  cannot  bring 


138   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

myself  to  drive  any  other  donkey ;  I  am 
always  hoping  to  impress  myself  on  hex 
imagination,  and  conquer  her  will  through 
her  fancy.  Meanwhile,  I  like  to  feel  my 
self  in  the  grasp  of  a  nature  stronger  than 
my  own,  and  so  I  hold  to  Jane,  and  buy  a 
photograph  of  St.  Bridget's  Well  1 


XXII 

It  was  about  two  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon,  and  I  suddenly  heard  a  strange 
sound,  that  of  our  fowl  cackling.  Yester 
day  I  heard  her  telltale  note  about  noon, 
and  the  day  before  just  as  I  was  eating  my 
breakfast.  I  knew  that  it  would  be  so ! 
The 'serpent  has  entered  Eden.  That 
fowl  has  laid  before  eight  in  the  morning 
for  three  weeks  without  interruption,  and 
she  has  now  entered  upon  a  career  of  wild 
and  reckless  uncertainty  which  compels 
me  to  eat  eggs  from  twelve  to  twenty-four 
hours  old,  just  as  if  I  were  in  London. 

Alas  for  the  rarity 
Of  regularity 
Under  the  sun! 

A  hen,  being  of  the  feminine  gender 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    139 

underestimates  the  majesty  of  order  and 
system  ;  she  resents  any  approach  to  the 
unimaginative  monotony  of  the  machine. 
Probably  the  Confederated  Fowl  Union 
has  been  meddling  with  our  little  paradise 
where  Labor  and  Capital  have  dwelt  in 
heavenly  unity  until  now.  Nothing  can 
be  done  about  it,  of  course ;  even  if  it  were 
possible  to  communicate  with  the  fowl,  she 
would  say,  I  suppose,  that  she  would  lay 
when  she  was  ready,  and  not  before  ;  at 
least,  that  is  what  an  American  hen  would 
say. 

Just  as  I  was  brooding  over  these  mys 
teries  and  trying  to  hatch  out  some  con 
clusions,  Mrs.  Bobby  knocked  at  the  door, 
and,  coming  in,  courtesied  very  low  before 
saying,  "  It 's  about  namin'  the  'ouse, 
miss." 

"Oh,  yes.  Pray  don't  stand,  Mrs. 
Bobby;  take  a  chair.  I  am  not  very 
busy ;  I  am  only  painting  prickles  on  my 
gorse  bushes,  so  we  will  talk  it  over." 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  you  Mrs. 
Bobby's  dialect,  in  reporting  my  various 
interviews  with  her,  for  the  spelling  of  it 
is  quite  beyond  my  powers.  Pray  remove 


140  Penelopes  English  Experiences 

all  the  //'s  wherever  they  occur,  and  insert 
them  where  they  do  not;  but  there  will 
be,  over  and  beyond  this,  an  intonation 
quite  impossible  to  render. 

Mrs.  Bobby  bought  her  place  only  a 
few  months  ago,  for  she  lived  in  Chelten 
ham  before  Mr.  Bobby  died.  The  last 
incumbent  had  probably  been  of  Welsh 
extraction,  for  the  cottage  had  been  named 
"Dan-y-Cefn."  Mrs.  Bobby  declared, 
however,  that  she  would  n't  have  a  hea 
thenish  name  posted  on  her  house,  and 
expect  her  friends  to  pronounce  it  when 
she  could  n't  pronounce  it  herself.  She 
seemed  grieved  when  at  first  I  could  not 
see  the  absolute  necessity  of  naming  the 
cottage  at  all,  telling  her  that  in  America 
we  named  only  grand  places.  She  was 
struck  dumb  with  amazement  at  this 
piece  of  information,  and  failed  to  con 
ceive  of  the  confusion  that  must  ensue  in 
villages  where  streets  were  scarcely  named 
or  houses  numbered.  I  confess  it  had 
never  occurred  to  me  that  our  manner  of 
doing  was  highly  inconvenient,  if  not  im 
possible,  and  I  approached  the  subject  of 
the  name  with  more  interest  and  more 
modesty. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    141 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Bobby,"  I  began,  "  it  is  to 
be  Cottage  ;  we  've  decided  that,  have  we 
not  ?  It  is  to  be  Cottage,  not  House, 
Lodge,  Mansion,  or  Villa.  We  cannot 
name  it  after  any  flower  that  blows,  be 
cause  they  are  all  taken.  Have  all  the 
trees  been  used  ?  " 

"  Thank  you,  miss,  yes,  miss,  all  but 
h'ash-tree,  and  we  'ave  no  h'ash." 

"  Very  good,  we  must  follow  another 
plan.  Family  names  seem  to  be  chosen, 
such  as  Gower  House,  Marston  Villa,  and 
the  like.  *  Bobby  Cottage,'  is  not  pretty. 
What  was  your  maiden  name,  Mrs. 
Bobby  ?  " 

"  Buggins,  thank  you,  miss,  '  Elizabeth 
Buggins,  Licensed  to  sell  Poultry,'  was  my 
name  and  title  when  I  met  Mr.  Bobby." 

"  I  'm  sorry,  but  '  Buggins  Cottage '  is 
still  more  impossible  than  'Bobby  Cot 
tage.'  Now  here's  another  idea:  where 
were  you  born,  Mrs.  Bobby  ? " 

"In  Snitterfield,  thank  you,  miss." 

"  Dear,  dear  !  how  unserviceable  1 " 

"  Thank  you,  miss." 

"  Where  was  Mr.  Bobby  born  ?  '* 

"  He  never  R?£ntioned,  miss." 


142   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

(Mr.  Bobby  must  have  been  expansive, 
for  they  were  married  twenty  years.) 

"There  is  always  Victoria  or  Albert," 
I  said  tentatively,  as  I  wiped  my  brushes. 

"  Yes,  miss,  but  with  all  respect  to  her 
Majesty,  them  names  give  me  a  turn  when 
I  see  them  on  the  gates,  I  am  that  sick  of 
them." 

"  True.  Can  we  call  it  anything  that 
will  suggest  its  situation  ?  Is  there  a  Hill 
Crest  ?  " 

"Yes,  miss,  there  is  '111  Crest,  '111  Top, 
'111  View,  '111  Side,  '111  End,  H'under  '111, 
'111  Bank,  and  '111  Terrace." 

"  I  should  think  that  would  do  for  Hill." 

"Thank  you,  miss.  'Ow  would  'The 
'Edge '  do,  miss  ?  " 

"But  we  have  no  hedge."  (She  shall 
not  have  anything  with  an  //  in  it,  if  I  can 
help  it.) 

"  No,  miss,  but  I  thought  I  might  set 
out  a  bit,  if  worst  come  to  worst." 

"And  wait  three  or  four  years  before 
people  would  know  why  the  cottage  was 
named  ?  Oh,  no,  Mrs.  Bobby." 

"  Thank  you,  miss." 

"We  might  have  something  quite  out 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    143 

of  the  common,  like  '  Providence  Cottage,' 
down  the  bank.  I  don't  know  why  Mrs. 
Jones  calls  it  Providence  Cottage,  unless 
she  thinks  it 's  a  providence  that  she  has 
one  at  all ;  or  because,  as  it 's  right  on  the 
edge  of  the  hill,  she  thinks  it 's  a  provi 
dence  that  it  has  n't  blown  off.  How 
would  you  like  'Peace'  or  'Rest'  Cot 
tage  ? " 

"  Begging  your  pardon,  miss,  it 's  nei 
ther  peace  nor  rest  I  gets  in  it  these  days, 
with  a  twenty -five  pound  debt  'anging 
over  me,  and  three  children  to  feed  and 
clothe." 

"  I  fear  we  are  not  very  clever,  Mrs. 
Bobby,  or  we  should  hit  upon  the  right 
thing  with  less  trouble.  I  know  what  I 
will  do :  I  will  go  down  in  the  road  and 
look  at  the  place  for  a  long  time  from  the 
outside,  and  try  to  think  what  it  suggests 
to  me." 

"  Thank  you,  miss  ;  and  I  'm  sure  I  'm 
grateful  for  all  the  trouble  you  are  taking 
with  my, small  affairs." 

Down  I  went,  and  leaned  over  the 
wicket  gate,  gazing  at  the  unnamed  cot 
tage.  The  bricked  pathway  was  scrubbed 


144  Penelopes  English  Experiences 

as  clean  as  a  penny,  and  the  stone  step 
and  the  floor  of  the  little  kitchen  as  well. 
The  garden  was  a  maze  of  fragrant  bloom, 
with  never  a  weed  in  sight.  The  fowl 
cackled  cheerily  still,  adding  insult  to  in 
jury,  the  pet  sheep  munched  grass  con 
tentedly,  and  the  canaries  sang  in  their 
cages  under  the  vines.  Mrs.  Bobby  set 
tled  herself  on  the  porch  with  a  pan  of 
peas  in  her  neat  gingham  lap,  and  all  at 
once  I  cried  :  — 

"  '  Comfort  Cottage ' !  It  is  the  very 
essence  of  comfort,  Mrs.  Bobby,  even  if 
there  is  not  absolute  peace  or  rest.  Let 
me  paint  the  signboard  for  you  this  very 
day." 

Mrs.  Bobby  was  most  complacent  over 
the  name.  She  had  the  greatest  confi 
dence  in  my  judgment,  and  the  charac 
terization  pleased  her  housewifely  pride, 
so  much  so  that  she  flushed  with  pleasure 
as  she  said  that  if  she  'ad  'er  'ealth  she 
thought  she  could  keep  the  place  looking 
so  that  the  passers-by  would  easily  h'un- 
derstand  the  name. 


Penelope's  English  Experiences    145 


XXIII 

It  was  some  days  after  the  naming  of 
the  cottage  that  Mrs.  Bobby  admitted  me 
into  her  financial  secrets,  and  explained 
the  difficulties  that  threatened  her  peace 
of  mind.  She  still  has  twenty-five  pounds 
to  pay  before  Comfort  Cottage  is  really 
her  own.  With  her  cow  and  her  vege 
table  garden,  to  say  nothing  of  her  pro 
crastinating  fowl,  she  manages  to  eke  out 
a  frugal  existence,  now  that  her  eldest  son 
is  in  a  blacksmith's  shop  at  Worcester  and 
is  sending  her  part  of  his  weekly  savings. 
But  it  has  been  a  poor  season  for  canaries, 
and  a  still  poorer  one  for  lodgers  ;  for  peo 
ple  in  these  degenerate  days  prefer  to  be 
nearer  the  hotels  and  the  mild  gayeties  of 
the  larger  settlements.  It  is  all  very  well 
so  long  as  I  remain  with  her,  and  she 
wishes  fervently  that  that  may  be  for 
ever  ;  for  never,  she  says  eloquently,  never 
in  all  her  Cheltenham  and  Belvern  expe 
rience,  has  she  encountered  such  a  jewel 
of  a  lodger  as  her  dear  Miss  'Amilton,  so 
little  trouble,  and  always  a  bit  of  praise 
for  her  plain  cooking,  and  a  pleasant  word 


146   Penelopes  English  Experiences 

for  the  children,  to  whom  most  lodgers 
object,  and  such  an  interest  in  the  cow 
and  the  fowl  and  the  garden  and  the  ca 
naries,  and  such  kindness  in  painting  the 
name  of  the  cottage,  so  that  it  is  the  finest 
thing  in  the  village,  and  nobody  can  get 
past  the  'ouse  without  stopping  to  gape  at 
it !     But  when  her  American  lodger  leaves 
her,  she  asks, — and  who  is  she  that  can 
expect  to  keep  a  beautiful  young  lady  who 
will  be  naming  her  own  cottage  and  paint 
ing   signboards   for  herself   before   long, 
likely? — but  when  her  American  lodger 
is  gone,  how  is  she,  Mrs.  Bobby,  to  put  by 
a  few  shillings  a  month  towards  the  debt 
on  the  cottage?     These  are  some  of  the 
problems   she    presents   to   me.     I   have 
turned  them  over  and  over  in  my  mind  as 
I  have  worked,    and   even    asked  Willie 
Beresford   in   my  weekly  letter  what  he 
could  suggest.     Of  course  he  could  not 
suggest   anything;    men  never  can.     All 
at  once,  one  morning,  a  happy  idea  struck 
me,  and  I  ran  down  to  Mrs.  Bobby,  who 
was  weeding  the  onion  bed  in  the  back 
garden. 

"  Mrs.   Bobby,"   I   said,   sitting    -down 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    147 

comfortably  on  the  edge  of  the  lettuce- 
frame,  "  I  am  sure  I  know  how  you  can 
earn  many  a  shilling  during  the  summer 
and  autumn  months,  and  you  must  begin 
the  experiment  while  I  am  here  to  advise 
you.  I  want  you  to  serve  five  o'clock  tea 
in  your  garden." 

"But,  miss,  thanking  you  kindly,  no 
body  would  think  of  stoppin'  'ere  for  a 
cup  of  tea  once  in  a  twelvemonth." 

"  You  never  know  what  people  will  do 
until  you  try  them.  People  will  do  almost 
anything,  Mrs.  Bobby,  if  you  only  put  it 
into  their  heads,  and  this  is  the  way  we 
shall  make  our  suggestion  to  the  public. 
I  will  paint  a  second  signboard  to  hang 
below  '  Comfort  Cottage.'  It  will  be  much 
more  beautiful  than  the  other,  for  it  shall 
have  a  steaming  kettle  on  it,  and  a  cup 
and  saucer,  and  the  words  'Tea  Served 
Here'  underneath,  the  letters  all  inter 
twined  with  tea  plants.  I  don't  know 
how  tea  plants  look,  but  then  neither 
does  the  public.  You  will  set  one  round 
table  on  the  porch,  so  that  if  it  threatens 
rain,  as  it  sometimes  does,  you  know,  in 
England,  people  will  not  be  afraid  to  sit 


148    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

down ;  and  the  other  you  will  put  under 
the  yew-tree  near  the  gate.  The  tables 
must  be  immaculate  ;  no  spotted,  rumpled 
cloths  and  chipped  cups  at  Comfort  Cot 
tage,  which  is  to  be  a  strictly  first-class 
tea  station.  You  will  put  vases  of  flowers 
on  the  tables,  and  you  will  not  mix  red, 
yellow,  purple,  and  blue  ones  in  the  same 
vase  "  — 

"  It  's  the  way  the  good  Lord  mixes 
'em  in  the  fields,"  interjected  Mrs.  Bobby 
piously. 

"Very  likely;  but  you  will  permit  me 
to  remark  that  the  good  Lord  can  manage 
things  successfully  which  we  poor  humans 
cannot.  You  will  set  out  your  cream  jug 
that  was  presented  to  Mrs.  Martha  Bug- 
gins  by  her  friends  and  neighbors  as  a 
token  of  respect  in  1823,  and  the  bowl 
that  was  presented  to  Mr.  Bobby  as  a 
sword  and  shooting  prize  in  1860,  and  all 
your  pretty  little  odds  and  ends.  You 
will  get  everything  ready  in  the  kitchen, 
so  that  customers  won't  have  to  wait  long  ; 
but  you  will  not  prepare  much  in  advance, 
so  that  there  '11  be  nothing  wasted." 

"It   sounds   beautiful   in  your  mouth, 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    149 

miss,  and  it  surely  would  n't  be  any  'arm 
to  make  a  trial  of  it." 

"  Of  course  it  won't.  There  is  no  inn 
here  where  nice  people  will  stop  (who 
would  ever  think  of  asking  for  tea  at  The 
Retired  Soldier  ?),  and  the  moment  they 
see  our  sign,  in  walking  or  driving  past, 
that  moment  they  will  be  consumed  with 
thirst.  You  do  not  begin  to  appreciate 
our  advantages  as  a  tea  station.  In  the 
first  place,  there  is  a  watering-trough  not 
far  from  the  gate,  and  drivers  very  often 
stop  to  water  their  horses  ;  then  we  have 
the  lovely  garden  which  everybody  ad 
mires  ;  and  if  everything  else  fails,  there 
is  the  baby.  Put  that  faded  pink  flannel 
slip  on  Jem,  showing  his  tanned  arms  and 
legs  as  usual,  tie  up  his  sleeves  with  blue 
bows  as  you  did  last  Sunday,  put  my  white 
tennis  cap  on  the  back  of  his  yellow  curls, 
turn  him  loose  in  the  hollyhocks,  and 
await  results.  Did  I  not  open  the  gate 
the  moment  I  saw  him,  though  there  was 
no  apartment  sign  in  the  window  ? " 

Mrs.  Bobby  was  overcome  by  the  magic 
of  my  arguments,  and  as  there  were  posi 
tively  no  attendant  risks,  we  decided  on 


150   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

an  early  opening.  The  very  next  day 
after  the  hanging  of  the  second  sign,  I 
superintended  the  arrangements  myself. 
It  was  a  nice  thirsty  afternoon,  and  as  I 
filled  the  flower  vases  I  felt  such  a  desire 
for  custom  and  such  a  love  of  trade  ani 
mating  me  that  I  was  positively  ashamed. 
At  three  o'clock  I  went  upstairs  and  threw 
myself  on  the  bed  for  a  nap,  for  I  had 
been  sketching  on  the  hills  since  early 
morning.  It  may  have  been  an  hour  later 
.when  I  heard  the  sound  of  voices  and  the 
stopping  of  a  heavy  vehicle  before  the 
house.  I. stole  to  the  front  window,  and, 
peeping  under  the  shelter  of  the  vines, 
saw  a  char-a-bancs,  on  the  way  from  Great 
Belvern  to  the  Beacon.  It  held  three  gen 
tlemen,  two  ladies,  and  four  children,  and 
everything  had  worked  precisely  as  I  in 
tended.  The  driver  had  seen  the  water 
ing-trough,  the  gentlemen  had  seen  the 
tea  sign,  the  children  had  seen  the  flowers 
and  the  canaries,  and  the  ladies  had  seen 
the  baby.  I  went  to  the  back  window  to 
call  an  encouraging  word  to  Mrs.  Bobby, 
but  to  my  horror  I  saw  that  worthy  wo 
man  disappearing  at  the  extreme  end  of 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    151 

the  lane  in  full  chase  of  our  cow,  that  had 
broken  down  the  fence,  and  was  now  at 
large,  with  some  of  our  neighbor's  turnip 
tops  hanging  from  her  mouth. 


XXIV 

Ruin  stared  us  in  the  face.  Were  our 
cherished  plans  to  be  frustrated  by  a  ma 
rauding  cow,  who  little  realized  that  she 
was  imperiling  her  own  means  of  exist 
ence  ?  Were  we  to  turn  away  three,  five, 
nine  thirsty  customers  at  one  fell  swoop  ? 
Never!  None  of  these  people  ever  saw 
me  before,  nor  would  ever  see  me  again. 
What  was  to  prevent  my  serving  them 
with  tea  ?  I  had  on  a  pink  cotton  gown, 
—  that  was  well  enough ;  I  hastily  but 
toned  on  a  clean  painting-apron,  and  seiz 
ing  a  freshly  laundered  cushion  cover  lying 
on  the  bureau,  a  square  of  lace  and  em 
broidery,  I  pinned  it  on  my  hair  for  a  cap 
while  descending  the  stairs.  Everything 
was  right  in  the  kitchen,  for  Mrs.  Bobby 
had  flown  in  the  midst  of  her  preparations. 
The  loaf,  the  bread  knife,  the  butter,  the 
marmalade,  all  stood  on  the  table,  and  the 


I $2    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

kettle  was  boiling.  I  set  the  tea  to  draw, 
and  then  dashed  to  the  door,  bowed  ap- 
petizingly  to  the  visitors,  showed  them  to 
the  tables  with  a  winning  smile  (which  was 
to  be  extra),  seated  the  children  mater 
nally  on  the  steps  and  laid  napkins  before 
them,  dashed  back  to  the  kitchen,  cut  the 
thin  bread  and  butter,  and  brought  it  with 
the  marmalade,  asked  my  customers  if 
they  desired  cream  and  told  them  it  was 
extra,  went  back  and  brought  a  tray  with 
tea,  boiling  water,  milk,  and  cream.  Low 
ering  my  voice  to  an  English  sweetness, 
and  dropping  a  few  h's  ostentatiously  as  I 
answered  questions,  I  poured  five  cups  of 
tea,  and  four  mugs  for  the  children,  and 
cut  more  bread  and  butter,  for  they  were 
all  eating  like  wolves.  They  praised  the 
butter.  I  told  them  it  was  a  specialty 
of  the  house.  They  requested  muffins. 
With  a  smile  of  heavenly  sweetness  tinged 
with  regret,  I  replied  that  Saturday  was 
our  muffin  day  :  Saturday,  muffins  ;  Tues 
day,  crumpets ;  Thursday,  scones ;  and 
Friday,  tea-cakes.  This  inspiration  sprang 
into  being  full  grown,  like  Pallas  from  the 
brain  of  Zeus.  While  they  were  regretting 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    153 

that  they  had  come  on  a  plain  bread-and- 
butter  day,  I  retired  to  the  kitchen  and 
made  out  a  bill  for  presentation  to  the 
oldest  man  of  the  party. 

s.    d. 

Nine  teas 3    6 

Cream 3 

Bread  and  butter I     o 

Marmalade 6 

5    3 

Feeling  five  and  threepence  to  be  an 
absurdly  small  charge  for  five  adult  and 
four  infant  teas,  I  destroyed  this  imme 
diately,  and  made  out  another,  putting 
each  item  fourpence  more,  and  the  bread 
and  butter  at  one  and  six.  I  also  intro 
duced  ninepence  for  extra  teas  for  the 
children,  who  had  had  two  mugs  apiece, 
very  weak.  This  brought  the  total  to  six 
shillings  and  tenpence,  and  I  was  beset 
by  a  horrible  temptation  to  add  a  shilling 
or  two  for  candles  ;  there  was  one  young 
man  among  the  three  who  looked  as  if  he 
would  have  understood  the  joke. 

The  father  of  the  family  looked  at  the 
bill,  and  remarked  quizzically,  "Bond 
Street  prices,  eh  ?  " 


154  Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

"  Bond  Street  service,"  said  I,  courtesy- 
ing  demurely. 

He  paid  it  without  flinching,  and  gave 
me  sixpence  for  myself.  I  was  very  much 
afraid  he  would  chuck  me  under  the  chin  j 
they  are  always  chucking  barmaids  under 
the  chin  in  old  English  novels,  but  I  have 
never  seen  it  done  in  real  life.  As  they 
strolled  down  to  the  gate,  the  second  gen 
tleman  gave  me  another  sixpence,  and  the 
nice  young  fellow  gave  me  a  shilling ;  he 
certainly  had  read  the  old  English  novels 
and  remembered  them,  so  I  kept  with  the 
children.  One  of  the  ladies  then  asked  if 
we  sold  flowers. 

"  Certainly,"  I  replied. 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  roses  ?  " 

"Fourpence  apiece  for  the  fine  ones," 
I  answered  glibly,  hoping  it  was  enough, 
"  thrippence  for  the  smaller  ones  ;  sixpence 
for  a  bunch  of  sweet  peas,  tuppence  apiece 
for  buttonhole  carnations." 

Each  of  the  ladies  took  some  roses  and 
mignonette,  and  the  gentlemen,  who  did 
not  care  for  carnations  in  the  least,  weak 
ened  when  I  approached  modestly  to  pin 
them  in  their  coats,  d  la  barmaid. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    155 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  children  be 
gan  to  tease  for  a  canary. 

"  Have  you  one  for  sale  ?  "  inquired  the 
fond  mother. 

"  Certainly,  madam."  (I  was  prepared 
to  sell  the  cottage  by  this  time.) 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  them  ?  " 

Rapid  calculation  on  my  part,  exces 
sively  difficult  without  pencil  and  paper. 
A  canary  is  three  to  five  dollars  in  Amer 
ica,  —  that  is,  from  twelve  shillings  to  a 
pound ;  then  at  a  venture,  "  From  ten 
shillings  to  a  guinea,  madam,  according 
to  the  quality  of  the  bird." 

"  Would  you  like  one  for  your  birthday, 
Margaret,  and  do  you  think  you  can  feed 
it  and  take  quite  good  care  of  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  mamma !  " 

"  Have  you  a  cage  ?  "  to  me  inquiringly. 

"  Certainly,  madam ;  it  is  not  a  new 
one,  but  I  shall  only  charge  you  a  shilling 
for  it."  (Impromptu  plan :  not  knowing 
whether  Mrs.  Bobby  had  any  cages,  or  if 
so  where  she  kept  them,  to  remove  the 
canary  in  Mrs.  Bobby's  bedroom  from 
the  small  wooden  cage  it  inhabited,  close 
the  windows,  and  leave  it  at  large  in  the 


156   Penelopes  English  Experiences 

apartment ;  then  bring  out  the  cage  and 
sell  it  to  the  lady.) 

"Very  well,  then,  please  select  me  a 
good  singer  for  about  twelve  shillings ;  a 
very  yellow  one,  please." 

I  did  so.  I  had  no  difficulty  about  the 
color ;  but  as  the  birds  all  stopped  singing 
when  I  put  my  hand  into  the  cages,  I  was 
somewhat  at  a  loss  to  choose  a  really  fine 
performer.  I  did  my  best,  with  the  result 
that  it  turned  out  to  be  the  mother  of 
several  fine  families,  but  no  vocalist,  and 
the  generous  young  man  brought  it  back 
for  an  exchange  some  days  afterwards. 

The  party  finally  mounted  the  char-a- 
bancs,  just  as  I  was  about  to  offer  the 
baby  for  twenty  -  five  pounds,  and  dirt 
cheap  at  that ;  meanwhile,  I  gave  the 
driver  a  cup  of  lukewarm  tea,  for  which  I 
refused  absolutely  to  accept  any  remuner 
ation. 

I  had  cleared  the  tables  before  Mrs. 
Bobby  returned,  flushed  and  panting,  with 
the  guilty  cow.  Never  shall  I  forget  that 
good  dame's  astonishment,  her  mild  dep 
recations,  her  smiles,  —  nay,  her  tears, 
—  as  she  inspected  my  truly  English  ac 
count  and  received  the  silver. 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    157 

s.    d. 

Nine  teas 36 

Cream 7 

Bread  and  butter I     6 

Extra  teas 9 

Marmalade 6 

Three  tips 20 

Four  roses  and  mignonette I     8 

Three  carnations 6 

Canary 12    o 

Cage 10 

24    o 

I  told  her  I  regretted  deeply  putting 
down  the  marmalade  so  low  as  sixpence ; 
but  as  they  had  not  touched  it,  it  did  not 
matter  so  much,  as  the  entire  outlay  for 
the  entertainment  had  been  only  about  a 
shilling.  On  that  modest  investment,  I 
considered  one  pound  three  shillings  a 
very  fair  sum  to  be  earned  by  an  inex 
perienced  "licensed  victualer"  like  my 
self,  particularly  as  I  am  English  only  by 
adoption,  and  not  by  birth. 


XXV 

I  essayed  another  nap  after  this  excit 
ing  episode.     I  heard  the  gate  open  once 


158   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

or  twice,  but  a  single  stray  customer,  after 
my  hungry  and  generous  horde,  did  not 
stir  my  curiosity,  and  I  sank  into  a  re 
freshing  slumber,  dreaming  that  Willie 
Beresford  and  I  kept  an  English  inn,  and 
that  I  was  the  barmaid.  This  blissful 
vision  had  been  of  all  too  short  duration 
when  I  was  awakened  by  Mrs.  Bobby's 
apologetic  voice. 

"  It  is  too  bad  to  disturb  you,  miss,  but 
I  've  got  to  go  and  patch  up  the  fence, 
and  smooth  over  the  matter  of  the  turnips 
with  Mrs.  Gooch,  who  is  that  snorty  I 
don't  know  'ow  ever  I  can  pacify  her. 
There  is  nothing  for  you  to  do,  miss,  only 
if  you  '11  kindly  keep  an  eye  on  the  cus 
tomer  at  the  yew-tree  table.  He  's  been 
here  for  'alf  an  hour,  miss,  and  I  think 
more  than  likely  he  's  a  foreigner,  by  his 
actions,  or  may  be  he  's  not  quite  right  in 
his  'ead,  though  'armless.  He  has  taken 
four  cups  of  tea,  miss,  and  Billy  saw  him 
turn  two  of  them  into  the  'olly'ocks.  He 
has  been  feeding  bread  and  butter  to  the 
dog,  and  now  the  baby  is  on  his  knee, 
playing  with  his  fine  gold  watch.  He 
gave  me  a  shilling  and  refused  to  take  a 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences    159 

penny  change  ;  but  why  does  he  stop  so 
long,  miss  ?  I  can't  help  worriting  over 
the  silver  cream  jug  that  was  my  mother's." 

Mrs.  Bobby  disappeared.  I  rose  lazily, 
and  approached  the  window  to  keep  my 
promised  eye  on  the  mysterious  customer. 
I  lifted  back  the  purple  clematis  to  get  a 
better  view. 

It  was  Willie  Beresford !  He  looked 
up  at  my  ejaculation  of  surprise,  and, 
dropping  the  baby  as  if  it  had  been  a 
parcel,  strode  under  the  window. 

/  (gasping).     How  did  you  come  here  ? 

He.   By  the  usual  methods,  dear. 

I.  You  should  n't  have  come  without 
asking.  Where  are  all  your  fine  promises  ? 
What  shall  I  do  with  you?  Do  you  know 
there  is  n't  a  hotel  within  four  miles  ? 

He.  That  is  nothing ;  it  was  four  hun 
dred  miles  that  I  could  n't  endure.  But 
give  me  a  less  grudging  welcome  than 
this,  though  I  am  like  a  starving  dog  that 
will  snatch  any  morsel  thrown  to  him ! 
It  is  really  autumn,  Penelope,  or  it  will  be 
in  a  few  days.  Say  you  are  a  little  glad 
to  see  me. 

(The  sight  of  him   so  near,  after  my 


160   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

weeks  of  loneliness,  gave  me  a  feeling  so 
sudden,  so  sweet,  and  so  vivid  that  it 
seemed  to  smite  me  first  on  the  eyes,  and 
then  in  the  heart ;  and  at  the  first  note  of 
his  convincing  voice  Doubt  picked  up  her 
trailing  skirts  and  fled  forever.) 

/.  Yes,  if  you  must  know  it,  I  am  glad 
to  see  you ;  so  glad,  indeed,  that  nothing 
in  the  world  seems  to  matter  so  long  as 
you  are  here. 

He  (striding  a  little  nearer,  and  looking 
about  involuntarily  for  a  ladder).  Penel 
ope,  do  you  know  the  penalty  of  saying 
such  sweet  things  to  me  ? 

/.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  know  the 
penalty  that  I  'm  committing  the  offense. 
Besides,  I  feel  safe  in  saying  anything  in 
this  second-story  window. 

He.  Don't  pride  yourself  on  your  safety 
unless  you  wish  to  see  me  transformed 
into  a  nineteenth-century  Romeo,  to  the 
detriment  of  Mrs.  Bobby's  vines.  I  can 
look  at  you  forever,  dear,  in  your  pink 
gown  and  your  purple  frame,  unless  I  can 
do  better.  Won't  you  come  down  ? 

/.    I  like  it  very  much  up  here. 

He.   You  would  like  it  very  much  down 


Penelope  s  English  Experiences     161 

here,  after  a  little.  So  you  did  n't  "  paint 
me  out,"  after  all  ? 

/.  No ;  on  the  contrary,  I  painted  you 
in,  to  every  twig  and  flower,  every  hill  and 
meadow,  every  sunrise  and  every  sunset. 

He.  You  must  come  down  !  The  dis 
tance  between  Belvern  and  Aix  when  I 
was  not  sure  that  you  loved  me  was 
nothing  compared  to  having  you  in  a 
second  story  when  I  know  that  you  do. 
Come  down,  Pen  !  Pretty  Pen  ! 

/.  Suppose  we  compromise.  My  sit 
ting-room  is  just  below ;  will  you  walk  in 
and  look  at  my  sketches  until  I  come  ? 
You  need  n't  ring  ;  the  bell  is  overgrown 
with  honeysuckle  and  there  is  no  one  to 
answer  it ;  it  might  almost  be  an  American 
hotel,  but  it  is,  Arcadia  ! 

He.  It  is  Paradise  \  and  alas !  here 
comes  the  serpent  ! 

/.  It  is  n't  a  serpent ;  it  is  the  kindest 
landlady  in  England.  —  Mrs.  Bobby,  this 
gentleman  is  a  dear  friend  of  mine  from 
America.  Mr.  Beresford,  this  is  Mrs. 
Bobby,  the  most  comfortable  hostess  in 
the  world,  and  the  owner  of  the  cottage, 
the  canaries,  the  tea-tables,  and  the  baby. 


1 62    Penelope  s  English  Experiences 

—  The  reason  Mr.  Beresford  was  so 
thirsty,  Mrs.  Bobby,  was  that  he  had 
walked  here  from  Great  Belvern,  so  -we 
must  give  him  some  supper  before  he 
returns. 

Mrs.  B.  Certainly,  miss,  he  shall  have 
the  best  in  the  'ouse,  you  can  depend 
upon  that. 

He.  Don't  let  me  interfere  with  your 
usual  arrangements.  I  am  not  hungry  — 
for  food ;  I  shall  do  very  well  until  I  get 
back  to  the  hotel. 

I.  Indeed  you  will  not,  sir !  Billy  shall 
pull  some  tomatoes  and  lettuce,  Tommy 
shall  milk  the  cow,  and  Mrs.  Bobby  shall 
make  you  a  savory  omelet  that  Delmonico 
might  envy.  Hark !  Is  that  our  fowl 
cackling  ?  It  is,  —  at  half  past  six  !  She 
heard  me  mention  omelet,  and  she  must 
be  calling,  "  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep." 

But  all  that  is  many  days  ago,  and  there 
are  no  more  experiences  to  relate  at 
present.  We  are  making  history  very  fast, 
Willie  Beresford  and  I,  but  much  of  it  is 
sacred  history,  and  so  I  cannot  chronicle 
it  for  any  one's  amusement. 


Penelopes  English  Experiences    163 

Mrs.  Beresford  is  here,  or  at  least  she 
is  in  Great  Belvern,  a  few  miles  distant. 
I  am  not  painting,  these  latter  days.  I 
have  turned  the  artist  side  of  my  nature 
to  the  wall  just  for  a  bit,  and  the  woman 
side  is  having  full  play.  I  do  not  know 
what  the  world  will  think  about  it,  if  it 
stops  to  think  at  all,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
"  right  side  out  "  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life;  and  when  I  take  up  my  brushes 
again,  I  shall  have  a  new  world  within 
from  which  to  paint,  —  yes,  and  a  new 
world  without. 

Good-by,  dear  Belvern!  Autumn  and 
winter  may  come  into  my  life,  but  when 
ever  I  think  of  you  it  will  be  summer-time 
in  my  heart.  I  shall  hear  the  tinkle  of 
the  belled  sheep  on  your  hillsides  ;  inhale 
the  fragrance  of  the  flowering  vine  that- 
climbed  in  at  my  cottage  window ;  relive 
in  memory  the  days  when  Love  and  I  first 
walked  together,  hand  in  hand.  Dear  days 
of  happy  idleness  ;  of  dreaming  dreams 
and  seeing  visions ;  of  morning  walks 
over  the  hills  ;  of  "  bread  and  cheese  and 
kisses "  at  noon,  with  kind  Mrs.  Bobby 
hovering  like  a  plump  guardian  angel  over 


164   Penelope  s  English  Experiences 


the  simple  least;  afternoon  tea  under  the 
friendly  shade  of  the  yew-tree,  and  part 
ing  at  the  wicket  gate.  I  can  see  him 
pass  the  clock  tower,  the  little  green-grocer 
shop,  the  old  stocks,  the  green  pump  ; 
then  he  is  at  the  turn  of  the  road  where 
the  stone  wall  and  the  hawthorn  hedge 
will  presently  hide  him  from  my  view.  I 
fly  up  to  my  window,  push  back  the  vines, 
catch  his  last  wave  of  the  hand.  I  would 
call  him  back,  if  I  dared  ;  but  it  would  be 
no  easier  to  let  him  go  the  second  time, 
and  there  is  always  to-morrow.  Thank 
God  for  to-morrow  !  And  if  there  should  be 
no  to-morrow  ?  Then  thank  God  for  to 
day  !  And  so  good-by  again,  dear  Belvern  ! 
It  was  in  the  lap  of  your  lovely  hills  that 
Penelope  first  knew  das  irdische  Gliick ; 
that  she  first  loved,  first  lived ;  forgot 
how  to  be  artist,  in  remembering  how  to 
be  woman. 


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